Dear Edward
by fmecs
Summary: Edward leaves Bella shortly after the fiasco of her 18th birthday and doesn't return.  Years later he receives an unexpected package.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I have more letters in my head. Will have to wait and see if anyone is interested in them making it to print.**

**Disclaimer: Sadly I am not Stephenie Meyer. Twilight and these characters belong to her, I'm just borrowing them for a short while. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Prologue

When I arrived home from my hunt there was a package sitting on my couch. I had thought it strange that the rest of my family was absent, but the truth was that I didn't pay much attention to them these days. I was existing in a haze. I hunted only when absolutely necessary and the rest of my time was spent in solitude, alone in my room. I wasn't very good company and I tried to spare the rest of them the ordeal of trying to deal with me.

The package piqued my curiosity. No address, no markings. Just a plain, brown box. It was then that I heard Alice approaching the house. In a flash she was standing before me. The look on her face matched her thoughts—pity, anger, sadness. I was about to ask her what was going on when she spoke.

"Earlier this afternoon a courier arrived. None of us was expecting a package."

I waited for her to continue, a feeling of apprehension creeping up my spine.

"He indicated that he had been given instructions to deliver this package to Edward Cullen."

The look on my face must have been one of confusion, but Alice remained silent, both her mouth and her mind. I couldn't figure out what was going on, and this drawn out one-sided conversation wasn't helping.

"Edward... It's from... Bella."

My heart froze, my mind raced. I felt dizzy and overwhelmed and sick—feelings that I was unaccustomed to as a vampire. I immediately hurled myself at the package, unwilling to wait a moment longer now that I knew it was from her, when suddenly Alice was standing between me and this most important box.

I could tell that she was torn about interfering, but, let's be honest, that was nothing new for Alice. Her mind suddenly went blank before she began reciting the Gettysburg address. I was contemplating a physical altercation to remove her but knew that it would be pointless—between her ability to see the future and my ability to read minds we were too evenly matched.

Alice cocked her head to the side, contemplating her next move. Making decisions and watching as the various futures played out, all the while blocking me with her patriotic ramblings. Finally, she let out a sigh and stepped to the side.

"I'll be back when you're ready to talk." And suddenly she was gone.

Without further delay I tore into the box. I don't know what I had expected to find, but I was still surprised to find that the box contained a journal. And as I pulled the cardboard back, there it was... a faint but undeniable trace of her scent. It set my throat on fire, despite having just hunted, and made my chest ache. Without delay I opened the leather cover and began to read.

Chapter 1

Dear Edward – I woke up today. Really woke up for the first time in months. I don't know what prompted this dreadful epiphany, but I know now... you're not coming back. You aren't going to change your mind or realize that you made a mistake.

I've spent the last few months in a semi-conscious state, a sort of high-functioning coma. I couldn't accept that you were gone. I was holding on to hope, hope that you would return to me, hope that you still loved me, hope that everything could return to how it was. You would give me that crooked smile that makes... made me melt and you would tell me that this was all just a terrible misunderstanding. We would be together once more and everything would fall back into place. But it hasn't happened and suddenly now, I know that it never will.

There was nothing special about today. The sky was gray, the trees and ground were the

same deep velvet green, I dragged myself through school, made Charlie dinner, did my homework. The same haze that has clouded my eyes and mind hung about me as I trudged through the day. But something clicked and reality has suddenly permeated my fog.

I've spent countless hours replaying memories of our time together, particularly toward the end. I've tried to determine where and when things went wrong. I've made desperate attempts to pinpoint the moment you stopped loving me. I've wondered how your family could have left without saying goodbye—I know that your feelings changed, but did theirs? Alice had become my best friend. Carlisle and Esme were like parents to me.

I've wondered why you came into my life at all if it was only going to fall apart the minute that I let myself feel happy and secure. I have tormented myself with these questions for months and I'm no closer to the answers than I was that day in the woods. I kept imagining that if I could understand what happened then maybe I could fix it. But I can't. And even if I knew how to fix this I don't know where you are and I'm fairly certain that my detective skills would fall short when the Cullens have decades and centuries of experience at living off the grid.

I can't do this anymore, Edward. I can't continue to live like this. It isn't healthy for me and it's killing Charlie. He watches my every move—analyzing me, trying to determine if I'm better or worse from day-to-day. Am I eating enough? Do my night terrors allow me to get any rest? But regardless of what he sees, the truth is that every day is the same; I am always the same.

Broken. Devastated. Defeated.

I don't know how to do it, but I'm going to try to let you go. I'm going to try to remember how life worked before I walked into Biology that fateful day. I'm going to take your advice and try to pretend that you never existed. I'm going to stop imagining our reunion, stop reliving our relationship, stop embracing the pain. I'm going to try to remember how I felt before I knew that vampires were real. That magic and monsters do exist.

I don't know how to go about any of this, but I thought that writing this letter might be a good place to start. A way to get this out without having to confide in someone. Who could I tell? There would be so much editing required of a conversation or a therapy session—I can't imagine that it would help.

So this is my attempt at goodbye. I suppose I'm a little slow. You said goodbye to me months ago. But you have the benefit of moving at vampire speed. We mere mortals are a little slower and I guess it's taken me time to process what you had to say and catch up to where you were that day.

Even as part of me is angry and bitter and hurt, I hope that wherever you are, you are well and happy. And I hope that one day, some day, I will be too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Sadly I am not Stephenie Meyer. Twilight and these characters belong to her, I'm just borrowing them for a short while. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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><p>My hands were shaking and my chest ached. I felt like I was being ripped apart from the inside out.<p>

An instant later my stomach clenched and I knew that I was going to be sick. I raced outside and had just made it beyond the drive before vomiting. If I was able to think clearly or at all I would have realized what a strange phenomenon this was. Sure, I had been sick before in order to expel human food. Occasionally we were forced to eat something when someone grew suspicious and started paying attention. But this was blood-I had never, ever, in all my years been sick on blood. And it was more than a little disconcerting to be vomiting blood. That's not a good sign for anyone, human or vampire.

I noticed that my whole body was trembling. Staying bent over, with my hands on my knees, I began taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself and regain control. After some time-minutes or hours or days, who knew?-I finally felt like I was more myself.

Then my brain kicked in...

What in the world did I expect to read? I had abandoned her, told her the most hurtful things that I could imagine, so that she would let me go. Did I think that she was going to be fine the next day?

Of course she went through a rough time. Didn't I? Wasn't I still? But she was human. I was sure that after a period of time she had healed and recovered and moved forward with her life. A real life...

I was suddenly overcome with a need to confirm that this was the case. That she had moved on and found happiness. I couldn't get inside fast enough.

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><p>Dear Edward – I thought that my epiphany that you weren't returning was the bottom and that I could slowly move up from there. I wasn't expecting an instant recovery or anything, but maybe a slow gentle incline. You know, one you don't notice until you've gone a great distance. And when you turn around to see how far you've come, you're surprised to learn that you've actually just climbed a huge mountain. Only it was effortless because you did it a little at a time.<p>

No such luck.

It's actually worse now.

Now when I dress in the morning I can see that my clothes don't fit. As I brush my teeth I see the horrible dark circles under my eyes. As I walk the halls at school, I see the looks I get and hear them whisper. While I sit across from Charlie at the dinner table I see the concern in his eyes and the pain that I'm causing him. I see it all now, and yet I feel powerless to stop it.

I don't want to feel this way. I don't want to be a shadow of who I used to be. But what else can I do? It takes every ounce of energy that I have just to keep myself going through the motions. I'm trying so hard just to put one foot in front of the other, to breathe in and breathe out.

During one of the whispered conversations in school, I overheard someone call me a zombie. I couldn't even argue or be angry because they're right-it's an apt description. Ironic, isn't it? I had to lose my vampire boyfriend to become the undead. This isn't the mythical creature that I imagined myself transforming into, but I suppose there are some similarities.

I can't eat.

I can't sleep.

I never realized how long one night could be. No matter what I do, every night I suffer from some variation of the same nightmare and wake up screaming, crying, shaking. I've tried keeping myself awake. I've tried to induce a dreamless sleep with nighttime cold medicine. I even tried some of Charlie's beer. But the result is always the same. Each night I'm doomed to relive some sick twisted version of your leaving. How can I expect to move past this when my mind forces me to experience it again and again?

I wonder if you know how the real life version played out. Were you watching from a distance, amused by the feeble human? Or were you long gone by then?

I tried to chase after you. Yeah, futile, I know. But I wasn't really thinking clearly. By the time I realized what was happening you were gone. I thought maybe if I talked to you I would be able to change your mind or at least understand what had happened. I finally got myself moving, ignoring the scrapes and bruises I was accumulating as I trekked through the forest. It started to rain and before I knew it, it was dark. I could feel this hole ripping open in my chest and I couldn't stay on my feet any longer. So the next time I fell, I stayed down.

I must have been delirious. I thought that I had heard a wild animal nearby at one point. And a few times I thought that I heard my name being called in the distance. But I couldn't manage to move or care.

It's all a little fuzzy, but eventually someone from the search party found me and carried me home. I know that the doctor came. I know that there were tons of people looking for me.

I remember asking Charlie how he knew where to look for me and he told me about the note that you forged. In that moment somehow I knew that everything else was gone too. But that didn't stop me from tearing up the stairs to see that it was true. At the time I thought it was fitting that you had stolen all of it. After losing the most important thing in the world, the rest doesn't really matter, does it?

But as awful as that was, the nightmares are worse. Worse, because some part of me knows what's going to happen before it does. Worse, because even though it is a product of my own mind I'm still powerless to change the outcome. Worse, because I know that even as my heart is still racing from the latest nightmare it's going to start all over when I close my eyes again.

At first, Charlie would come charging into my room thinking that I was being attacked and murdered. Before long though he started ignoring it. For awhile I thought that he couldn't even hear it anymore, that he was managing to block it out and sleep through it.

But today, I learned differently.

Charlie confronted me tonight during dinner. He told me that he can handle my "moping" but that he can't overlook the night terrors. He knows that I'm not sleeping and that it's unhealthy. He said that he doesn't know how to help me but it's clear that I need help. So he gave me two options.

I can move to Florida to live with my mom or I can go into therapy. I didn't know that Charlie had it in him to throw down an ultimatum, but there it is. He gave me tonight to think about it and I have to give him my answer in the morning.

But the truth is there's really no choice. I'm not going to Florida. I love my mom, more than anything. But I can't live with her, not when I'm like this. Which means that tomorrow morning I will begrudgingly agree to go into therapy.

I've been thinking tonight about what I'll be able to say. I suppose that I can tell him that I've been depressed since my boyfriend dumped me and left town. But that hardly explains it. I'm sure he'll think I'm a basket case teenager who's being melodramatic. Maybe I am.

How in the world am I going to create and stick to a plausible story? I can barely drag myself through the day and now I'll have to come up with extra energy for this? And everyone knows that I'm the world's worst liar. He'll probably see right through me.

But there is another option. I've thought about telling the truth. The whole truth.

I'm fairly certain that if I go that route I'll find myself admitted to a psychiatric hospital sooner rather than later. And I can't help but wonder if maybe that would be easier. Instead of investing all of this energy in trying to act normal (and failing miserably), I could just be me. No expectations, no pretending, no worries, no responsibilities.

It sounds nice.

I haven't made any decisions yet. But I'll have to decide soon.

And I know what you would say if you were here. You'd tell me not to tell the truth, not to take the easy way out. To tough it out for Charlie and graduate this spring. But you're not here...

Guess I'll get to make my own decision and decide my own fate.


	3. Chapter 3

I was so desperate to know what had transpired next that I fumbled and almost ripped the page in my haste. I had to know that she hadn't taken the cowards way out in an attempt to escape the effort involved in living what would no doubt eventually be a full and happy life.

After everything that I had done to myself, to my family, and, most importantly to her, I had to know that she hadn't so carelessly discarded the gift of a normal life that I had intended for her.

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><p>Dear Edward - I had my first therapy session this week. It wasn't as bad as I had anticipated. In fact, it wasn't bad at all. Turns out my therapist is a woman. I don't know why I had assumed that it would be a man. Maybe it's because I was expecting the worst. I seem to do that these days. And I figured that a man would have a difficult time sympathizing with a morose teenage girl.<p>

Anyway, her name is Bridget. We spent the time getting to know one another. I didn't have to lay on the couch and she participated in the conversation. It wasn't limited to her asking probing questions and responding with a lot of "mm-hmms" and head nods while she scribbled furiously in a chart. I shouldn't be surprised, I guess, but before now my only exposure to therapy was cartoons and books. I wasn't sure what to expect and I was a little nervous.

Despite my earlier assertion that I was considering the easy way out and telling her the whole truth, it wasn't ever a realistic option. It would kill Charlie if I did it. He'd blame himself and Renee would blame him too. No one would really win. So I managed through the first session and avoided being committed. I'm going to consider that a success.

We covered some of the basics. What my childhood was like, Charlie and Renee's divorce, what it was like growing up with my mom, the brief visits during the summers with Charlie, and me deciding to move to Forks.

She asked me why I was in therapy and I told her about Charlie's ultimatum. She seemed curious about the fact that I didn't even consider moving to Florida. I couldn't seem to put it in to words to explain it to her, so she asked me to think about that before our next session.

Of course, I couldn't avoid mentioning you and your departure, though I would have loved to skip over that part. But I want to give this a real chance and I can't do that if I avoid the truth. I gave her the Cliff Notes version of our relationship and, of course, I edited out all of the mystical, non-human details.

She pointed out to me that I never once mentioned your name. Instead I said "he" or "him." When I stopped to think about it I realized that I haven't spoken your name aloud since the day you left. And aside from these letters, I try not to even think it.

I'm not sure why that it is. Avoiding your name certainly hasn't made things easy. But maybe it prevented things from being worse. It seemed so odd once Bridget pointed it out and, what was I going to do, refuse to tell her your name? There I am telling her that the whole reason I'm in therapy is because of this failed relationship but I'm not going to tell her your name? So I said it. Out loud.

It didn't seem like a big deal at the time, but it caught up with me before long. My nightmares were darker than usual that night. I woke up in a cold sweat, crying. It was two a.m., but I knew that I wasn't going to be able to sleep anymore.

But I'm getting off topic. Bridget didn't even ask me about my dreams even though I mentioned them and explained that they were the main reason that Charlie had sent me to her. I suppose we'll get around to them eventually. I'm in no hurry to recount the details so I should count my blessings that I didn't have to jump into them during the first session.

She asked me about school and I told her that my grades were fine. She asked about friends and I realized that I don't have any. I still sit with the same folks at lunch, but it's been months since any of them talked to me. And to be fair, I don't talk to them either. How can you go months without noticing that the only reason you leave your house is for school or work? That you don't have any social interactions?

But there it is. It sounded pathetic even to me. Bridget suggested that I try talking to them and engage in at least one social activity before our next session. It sounded reasonable enough for anyone else, but I had no idea where to start.

I'm determined to give this my best shot though. I had given some thought about who I could go out with. I would have preferred to spend some time with Angela, she's a good person, but I knew that I couldn't handle it. I need baby steps-something a little more superficial with someone that I don't have to really engage with. A movie seemed safe enough since conversation would be minimal and Jessica seemed the perfect choice. All I had to do was ask a question or two and she'd carry the rest of the conversation.

With my decision made, this afternoon in Calculus I talked to Jessica. I figured that if I was going to complete my social assignment I'd better get to it. I asked her if she wanted to go to a movie with me. She didn't seem too eager but eventually she agreed. I'm still not sure if she did it out of pity or some morbid curiosity about what prompted me to ask.

So tonight we went to Port Angeles for a movie. I didn't even know what was playing so I had to rely on Jessica for some guidance. We ended up seeing a zombie movie. I figured it was safer than the other option which as a romantic comedy. I decided that I'd do my best to overlook the similarities between the monsters and me. Of course, there had to be some sappy love story tied into the whole thing. I couldn't bear to watch so I flaked and hid at the concession stand long enough for everyone to become a zombie. But by the end it was too much like looking in a mirror when I looked in their dead eyes, so I ended up waiting for Jessica in the lobby.

She assumed that I was scared and since that made a whole lot more sense than the truth I didn't bother to set her straight. We decided to get something to eat and this is where my night got... interesting. Or maybe bizarre is more accurate. I still haven't fully processed what happened and I'm not sure how to feel about it.

We were walking to McDonald's when I noticed a few guys hanging out in front of a bar. I stopped and was hit with this wave of deja vu. I don't know if it was the rowdy boys or being in Port Angeles with Jessica, but I was suddenly thinking of the night that you saved me. My heart was racing and for the first time since you left I felt alive and in the moment, aware of what was going on around me.

I thought that they were the same guys from that other night and before I knew what I was doing I started to cross the street to see. Dumb move, I know. I should have gotten out of there as fast as I could if I thought these were the same thugs. I know that there's no one waiting in the shadows to save me if something goes awry. But it was as if I was possessed.

Jessica tried to stop me, but I felt compelled to see if it was them. She started causing a bit of a scene and they took notice. I started moving closer so that I could see them better and that's when it happened...

I heard you telling me to stop. And I don't mean that I heard what I thought you would say to me in this situation, I mean I heard your voice. It was exactly the same, laced with the same condescending exasperation that you so often used when I was talking about something that you perceived as too dangerous.

I was stunned. I looked around because for a moment I thought you were there, but then I remembered that it wasn't possible. I took another step and there it was again, your glorious voice chastising me to remember my promise. It was disturbing and wonderful all at the same time. I felt so close to you in that moment.

My heart was racing and I could feel the adrenaline coursing through me. Though, whether that was in response to the potential danger posed by the men across the street or because I felt connected to you for the first time in so long, too long, I can't be sure.

You sounded so frustrated with me and it was all I could do not to laugh out loud. It was magical and I was giddy.

I wish now that the street could have widened itself in that instant, that my walk could have been longer. That I could have had more time to hear you arguing with me and your irate snarling.

But all too quickly I had arrived in front of the men and it was instantly clear that they were not the same. They didn't seem the least bit sinister or menacing. And as soon as the potential danger had passed, I felt you drift away. The silence in my head was deafening.

I don't know what this means. Am I crazy? Was it my subconscious trying to keep me safe? Or was it somehow you? Alice sees the future and you can read minds. So isn't it possible that you could communicate with me telepathically?

Guess the only problem with that scenario is that even if it was possible, clearly you couldn't be bothered with me. Especially after all this time.

So I guess that leaves me with just the two options to consider.

I'm going to have to take some time to think this all through. But something tells me that I won't be getting much sleep tonight. I think I'm going to have plenty of time to sort it all out.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N - I've been an avid fanfiction reader for quite some time, but this is my first foray into writing. I'm enjoying it more than I thought I would and I appreciate knowing that there are a few of you out there who are enjoying it too. Thanks to all who take the time to read and review!**_

I was infuriated by nearly every word I read. How could she think that I didn't care? I know what I told her when I left. But after everything that we had shared how could she have believed me? How could she have erased all of our time together, every special moment shared, every profession of my love? It pained me that she could think me so fickle, so callous. That she could ever doubt the depth and sincerity of my feelings for her.

And what in the world was she doing approaching those miscreants? I suppose that I should have felt relieved that at least some part of her was aware of the danger and had the sense to try to shock her into awareness. For all the good it did, though. Despite her claims about hearing my voice, she failed to heed the warning. If anything it seemed to propel her forward.

How in the world would she end up having a normal life if she couldn't help but place herself in dangerous situations at every opportunity? But more alarming... with my departure, who was there to save her from the world? From herself?

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><p>Dear Edward - I spent a lot of time the night of the movies thinking about what had occurred. After a lot of consideration I've decided that I'm not crazy. I don't feel crazy. And I figure if I'm taking time to ponder the question at all, that's a good sign, right? We've all seen a few truly crazy or disturbed people in our day and judging from those experiences I don't think that those folks would stop to consider whether or not there was something wrong with them.<p>

So if I'm not crazy and you aren't suddenly tuned in and caring and communicating with me telepathically, then your voice had to have been a product of my subconscious. A gift of sorts; from me, to me. I figure that it was self-induced wish fulfillment. My own way of trying to save myself. That makes sense. Doesn't it?

But truth be told, I don't care what it was. I don't care what the explanation is. I've been wandering around these last few months expending an enormous amount of energy trying not to actively think about you. But at the same time, I've been terrified that by doing so I might start to forget. How can I be sure that I won't lose my memories of you if I never allow myself to think of them. I know that I'll never forget you entirely, but I'm afraid that over time some of the details could start to slip away. And if the little things start disappearing, how long before I begin forgetting more?

You were way off base about it being like you never existed, what a crock. But I worry that you might be right about a human memory being like a sieve.

I'm trying to find a way to move on, but I need to do it without forgetting. Despite what happened and how I'm feeling now, my time with you was the best of my life. I know that you, like everyone else, would tell me that I'm young and that I have a lot of life left to live. I can't argue with that, but no matter what's to come, the time that I knew you and you loved me will always be precious.

I don't want to let that go.

I don't want to forget it.

I don't want to be sitting around sixty years from now, unsure about whether or not you were real. I don't want to wonder if perhaps it wasn't just some vivid dream. I don't want to consider that perhaps I embellished the details, taking something ordinary and making it extraordinary, over time.

The result of all this thinking is that I don't care why I heard your voice. I'm just glad that I did. Assuming that the whole episode was of my own making it means that I haven't forgotten the music of your voice, your manner of speaking. I haven't forgotten how upset I could make you or how loved I felt when you expressed your concern for me.

But even though I've resigned myself not to worry why, I'm still fascinated. What was it about last night that caused it? I've been struggling all along so what was different? What prompted these... auditory hallucinations? Was it the similarity of circumstances? The adrenaline and the perception of danger?

I need to figure it out. If I don't understand what triggered it, I won't be able to do it again.

The question was, how do I go about identifying the trigger? I don't think it's possible to intentionally recreate a sense of deja vu, so I decided to focus my energies on testing out the adrenaline and danger theory. It wouldn't be easy to do-danger is in short supply in Forks-but I was feeling quite determined about it.

Maybe I am a danger magnet or maybe my luck is finally changing, because about 12 hours after I decided to go looking for it, danger found me. The whole thing was a lot less effort than I had anticipated.

After getting out of work early today I decided to drive around for awhile. I didn't want to go home because I didn't have nearly enough chores to fill up my day and I hate the prospect of long stretches of time devoid of structured activity. Idle hands and all that.

So there I am, driving around during a torrential downpour, mind wandering. I ended up pulling over when I realized that I wasn't paying attention. I had no idea where I was and didn't remember how I had arrived there. I was distracted and that wasn't safe-for me or anyone else. I sat there trying to pull myself together and get my bearings. And what do I see as I take in my surroundings? A sign advertising two motorcycles for sale. Ask and ye shall receive - danger for sale.

Turns out they had actually given up on selling the bikes and had placed them at the curb for the trash. My lucky streak continued as my danger came for free!

I took both bikes in the hopes that I could leverage parts from each and end up with one working death trap. Too bad Rosalie isn't around, I'm pretty sure that she would have been more than willing to fix me up with a tricked out bike capable of eradicating the troublesome human. But I did have some inspiration about who could help. I remembered that Jacob was the one to fix up my old truck before my Dad bought it from Billy.

I figured that bikes and trucks can't be all that different when it comes to their guts. Heaven knows it's all Greek to me. Before I could come to my senses or, more importantly, before I was spotted with two motorcycles in the back of my truck and reported to the Chief of Police, I got myself to Jacob's.

I was worried about the reception that I'd receive. Not from Jacob, but from Billy. I didn't think I could handle it if he was all smug about how things had worked out. He wanted me to stay away from you and his wish had been granted. But he surprised me by being polite and gracious.

Of course, he didn't have a lot of opportunity for gloating. Jacob had been planning to work on his car so shortly after I arrived we headed for the garage and spent most of the afternoon there. I would have expected to be bored out of my mind sitting in a garage while some guy worked on a car. But the truth is, I really enjoyed myself. I had forgotten how much I liked Jacob, he's really easy to be with. We talked most of the afternoon and it was effortless.

I was nervous about bringing up the bikes. I wasn't sure I could trust him not to tell Billy or Charlie. But what did I really have to lose? As it turned out he was excited about the bikes and seemed on board with keeping my secret. We worked out a deal. He won't let me pay him for fixing the bikes up, so I insisted that one of the bikes will be his when they're done. And I'm going to finance all of the parts that we'll need and he agreed to give me riding lessons when the time comes. So it works out perfectly!

He started taking them apart today and he's going to make a list of the parts that we'll need. I'm going to go back tomorrow to get started.

I felt like a whole new person as I left the Reservation this evening. It's amazing what some smiling and laughter can do. And it wasn't forced or faked for anyone's benefit. I was genuinely feeling lighter. Like a real person instead of some imposter.

Charlie definitely noticed the difference, although he was afraid to acknowledge it directly. He was probably afraid to do anything that might upset the delicate balance.

I don't blame him. I'm worried that there might be a high price to pay for this tonight. Like my nightmares will punish me for letting go of the pain and misery, even for just a little while. I'm fearful that the pendulum will swing the other way and I'll crash from this place of contentment back into my pit of despair. But I'll gladly pay whatever price when the time comes and I'll enjoy this as long as it lasts.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N - I now understand why other authors beg for reviews. I find them extremely motivating. So please consider taking the time to let me know what you think-good or bad. (Although, if you're anything like me, you wouldn't still be reading a story that you hate.)**

MOTORCYCLES! This from the girl who manages to find a way to injure herself under normal daily circumstances?

I realized that I was growling in frustration and my hands were starting to shake. I forced myself to discard the journal before I could do unintentional damage. Ripping it to shreds would prevent me from finishing the journal and eliminate this insight into Bella's life.

Despite the fact that she was struggling in these early entries, I cherished them. Despite the heartache that I felt reading about what I had put her through, I craved more.

I deserved to be subjected to her pain, her anguish. I was the cause. I was the one who had made the decisions that led her to these feelings, this darkness.

I walked to my piano, intending to play. Perhaps doing so would help me to focus my energies, channel this angst and work through the frustration. But instead I sat there with my hands poised over the keys, staring at the journal across the room.

It was like an addiction. These glimpses into Bella's life were finally a tangible tie to her. And though I had managed to hold steadfast after leaving Forks, I felt myself losing control. Slipping back into that same mentality. Not being able to get enough of her.

Without further delay I began to read the next entry.

* * *

><p>Dear Edward - Something truly amazing happened Saturday night after finding the bikes and recruiting Jacob for my mission of danger.<p>

I slept. I laid down and closed my eyes and fell asleep almost immediately. And then I woke up in the morning. No tossing and turning. No waking in the middle of the night. No nightmares. No screaming. Just an honest to goodness night of sleep. I haven't felt that well rested since... well, it's been a long time. I actually forgot how good it could feel to sleep. To wake up feeling refreshed.

On Sunday I headed back to Jacob's and we went to the dump to try to get some of the parts that we'd need to get the bikes back in working condition. I didn't know what most of the pieces were by name, so clearly I wasn't much help in identifying them by site. But I schlepped around the dump with him in the mud and the rain and it wasn't so bad. Jacob was excited by what he was able to find there and his enthusiasm was contagious.

There was a really tense moment when he noticed and casually mentioned the gaping hole in my truck. I braced myself for the pain to return, for the familiar ache to take hold once again.

But it didn't.

I guess I need to explain. I sort of removed the radio that Emmett installed. And at the time it seemed necessary to do so with my bare hands. I couldn't stomach listening to music anymore. The happy, upbeat songs made me angry. The sad songs were weak. They couldn't begin to compete with the despair that I was feeling. Music became another enemy. One more casualty of our relationship. I suppose the logical thing would have been to leave the stereo in and just not turn it on. But it was more than just the music. I didn't want to be reminded of you or your family or my birthday.

As far as I can tell, that's when everything went wrong with us. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you were just going through the motions even before then. But all of my obsessive analysis leads me to believe that my birthday party was the beginning of the end.

I've wondered again and again if things might have been different if only I wasn't such a klutz. If I hadn't made such a stupid mistake with the paper-cut, would we still be together? Was that whole fiasco the last straw for you? Did it make you realize that you didn't want the inconvenience of me and the hassles that I created for you and your family?

I'm embarrassed to admit what I was thinking after the party. I knew that you were upset and that you were keeping things from me. I could see the sadness in your eyes. You grew distant and I thought that you were just trying to process everything and figure out the best move for everyone. I was doing the same and had eventually arrived at the conclusion that you and I would go away together for awhile. I felt awful about running Jasper and Alice out of their home. I had already done that with Emmett and Rosalie. I didn't like feeling like I was breaking up your family.

So I figured that instead of them being scattered all over the place, you were going to ask me to go away with you. I was actually excited about the prospect of you and I having some time alone, our own adventures. And I figured that in time, things would settle down and we'd reconnect with all of them.

It sounds so stupid now, but that's what I believed at the time. I didn't realize that the distance was more than that. That you were really leaving me a little at a time until the big finale.

But I digress.

I was telling you about the bike parts. So after we salvaged what we could at the dump it was off to the Checker Auto Parts store in Hoquiam. It was a long trip, over two hours, but the time passed quickly and I found that Jacob and I had lots to talk about. We managed to get all of the parts that were on his list and Jacob seems confident that we should be able to get the bikes going with what we have.

Unfortunately, my reprieve only lasted one night. Last night the nightmares returned. They were a little different, though, and I'm not sure what to make of that. I guess I'll let Bridget figure that out for me when the time comes.

So today at lunch I was listening to the conversation, really listening for the first time in months. Angela was mentioning that she and Ben saw something that had to have been a bear, but she didn't think that bears got that big. Jessica and Lauren were giving her a hard time about it.

I remembered a conversation that I had overheard at work the other day. There were two hikers who were talking about a huge bear one of them had spotted and he said it was just a few miles outside of town. I opened my mouth and before I knew it I had spoken. Judging from the reaction I got, it's safe to say that everyone else was just as surprised as I was. It felt awkward, but I did it. I spoke to these people who used to be my friends.

It was nice to feel normal again, even for a moment. I had to remind myself that I used to be capable of conversations without it being a big deal, without it prompting a sense of pride. It used to be so effortless to be ordinary.

I think I'm making real progress now. A social event, a real friend, and a conversation with some casual acquaintances. Maybe things are starting to turn around for me.

Of course, then I had to go and realize the date. It was a year ago yesterday that I had my first day of school here. A year ago yesterday that my life started down a different path when I saw you in the lunch room and felt you seething next to me in Biology.

As I left school and headed toward La Push to hang out with Jacob while he worked on the bikes, I suddenly found myself heading instead to your old house. I don't know why I didn't think of this sooner, but I thought that maybe by going there I could invoke a sense of deja vu. And if I was really lucky... I'd be able to hear your voice again.

I almost missed the turn off from the main road and the driveway was incredibly overgrown. For some reason your ridiculous words started looping in my head: _It will be as if I'd never existed_.

I started to worry that the house was going to be gone. Knowing that you had stolen all of the other evidence of our time together, I felt a rising sense of panic at the thought that perhaps you would have gone so far as to have the house torn down. And if it wasn't there, it was going to be one more missing piece of evidence. One more step toward believing that perhaps I am crazy. That maybe I made the whole thing up.

But the house _was_ there. And maybe that's worse. It was like a corpse. Nothing looked different and yet it wasn't the same. It seemed to have lost its soul, its life. It felt like what it was, an abandoned building.

I didn't hear your voice. So I got out of the truck and started walking toward the house.

Nothing.

I stopped before I could get close enough to see the inside through the expansive windows. I don't know if you would have emptied it or left everything just as it was. I wasn't sure which would be worse, but I wasn't prepared to see it either way. It was clear that there was nothing there for me. Nothing left of you.

I was suddenly overcome with a sense of urgency to get out of there. I couldn't get to La Push fast enough. I so rarely mind the speed limitations that my truck imposes, but today I was definitely pushing its boundaries.

On the bright side, Jacob already has a decent amount done on one of the bikes. I don't think it will be long at all, before I get to put my danger/adrenaline theory to the test.


	6. Chapter 6

My chest ached. Knowing how much everything I encountered continued to remind me of Bella, even though I was thousands of miles away, even though I had severed all ties. How could I have believed that I could erase myself from her world simply by removing a few photos and a CD?

I was haunted by her constantly. I never imagined that it would be the same for her. That looking at a stereo could evoke such emotion. It never dawned on me that she would go back to the house. I never thought about the fact that she would be reminded of me at every turn as she went about her day at home, at school.

I was happy to read that she had managed a good night's rest. I thought that showed promise. Perhaps her subconscious mind was beginning to let up on her. Let her move on. And it was good that she was starting to re-engage socially.

But I was concerned about these bikes and I didn't like the idea of her spending time with Jacob. Clearly my family had history with the Quileutes and while it was peaceable, it wasn't friendly. I was concerned about how she would be treated on the reservation. Our relationship had been no secret and I know that Billy wasn't acting independently in his attempts to convince Bella to distance herself from me.

Of course, if I was completely honest with myself, it was more than that. I didn't like the idea of her spending time with another man, or boy, as the case may be.

While I had imagined a normal life for Bella, one that would inevitably involve a relationship, I found the reality of it difficult to bear. I never anticipated that I would be in a position to have any awareness of it, let alone a front row seat.

But it was a small price to pay. I would cope with the stories of her spending time with someone else. Anything in order to continue with the journal, to understand what she went through and, eventually, where it led her.

* * *

><p>Dear Edward - So even in my quest for recklessness I can't help but be responsible. When I stopped by Jake's the other day and one of the bikes was already standing up, I realized that he is as obsessed as I am. There's no way that he was keeping up with his school work; I know that I wasn't. And as excited as Charlie is to see me out in the land of the living, that will be short-lived if my grades take a dive. Jacob and I decided that we'd do school work together twice a week in order to keep up.<p>

On another front, Angela and Mike have been really accepting of me and kind enough to overlook the fog that I've been in the last few months. Jessica is still being a bit stand-offish, but that's no surprise.

At work the other night Mike was acting as though I was a long lost friend, talking a mile a minute as if we had months to catch up on. It isn't as easy being around him as it is with Jake, but I have to admit it made work more interesting. The time passed by quickly and it was nice to keep the normal feeling going. Then things got a little tense at the end of our shift.

Mike asked me out. Talk about deja vu; but, alas, there was no voice in my head, just my own internal groan. I told him that I don't date but that we could get together as friends sometime if he wanted. Some of his enthusiasm waned, but he seemed ok with it. I'll just have to be careful there. Life is challenging enough right now, I don't need additional complications.

The week passed by in a blur between school, work, homework with Jake, and hanging out at the garage while he worked on the bikes.

I also had another session with Bridget this week. She definitely noticed a difference. It's so obvious, though, it's hard to miss. I was a lot more animated and talkative and... alive. I told her about taking my social assignment seriously and filled her in on the movies with Jessica, hanging out with Jake, engaging with the lunch crowd. Of course, I still had to do some editing. Things are finally looking up for me so I saw no need to tell her about hearing voices, well your voice. And I saw no need to fill her in on what Jake and I are up to. She seems pretty understanding, but she's still an adult and I don't need the safety lecture. I know exactly how dangerous motorcycles can be... I'm counting on it.

I told her that I feel really good about the changes that I've made. It hasn't fixed everything, but the distraction is nice. I also told her about my big night of dreamless sleep. It hasn't happened again, but I'm trying to be optimistic. That's a big switch for me these days.

We didn't have time to get into the dreams in any detail, but I have a feeling that it's going to be the focus of our next session. There's no way that she's going to let me avoid talking about it forever.

I have to say that I felt lighter after the session. I've never been a big talker, but it feels cathartic to let it all out.

That got me thinking. Maybe that's one of the places that you and I went wrong. Not enough communication. I would let you get quiet and keep me at a distance. I tried to pretend like it wasn't a big deal, but it was. And you were always so sure that you knew what was best for me, for us. Just because I'm younger and can't read minds, I think you assumed that you knew better than I did and that you were in a position to make more informed decisions. That drove me crazy, but I did my best not to make an issue of it.

I was so wrapped up in you, how lucky I was to be with you. I was too afraid to push back and make waves. I worried that if I did, you'd come to your senses and realize you didn't want to be with me after all. Guess it didn't work, just look at how things ended up.

It doesn't sound like a healthy relationship, does it? It's a little disturbing for me to realize now how meek and timid I'd become. But I take the blame. You didn't know what I was thinking and I repeatedly made the choice not to open up. To avoid any confrontation.

I suppose there's nothing to be gained by dwelling on us. I know that I can't change the past. I know that I can't get you back. But I can't seem to help myself.

Anyway... I haven't told Jacob about being in therapy. I know that it doesn't carry the same stigma that it used to, but I'm still a little embarrassed. I worry that he might think less of me. And I don't want him to look at me differently, like I'm disturbed or crazy. He's quickly become a big part of my life. He makes me feel less empty and alone. I'm afraid to do anything that will jeopardize our friendship.

Does that make me a hypocrite? Here I am, one moment considering lack of communication as a contributing factor to our failed relationship. And the next, I'm talking about keeping things from Jacob. I don't think it's the same, but maybe that's just what I want to believe.

The truth is that I'm scared. I'm finally starting to feel a bit better, finally living a little. I can't even imagine what I would do if Jacob started distancing himself from me, if I saw even a hint of the coldness that I saw in your eyes that day in the woods.

It really couldn't compare to your leaving, but I'm starting from a much more fragile place. This recent attempt at normalcy is too new and I think it would break me if he backed off or walked away altogether. Jacob has been a lifesaver to me.

I was thinking about it tonight after driving him home. It's like I'm some patient with a serious injury-someone who was shot or in a major car accident. And Jacob is my pain medication. The pain meds don't cure the patient; the bullet hole doesn't disappear, the broken bones aren't magically mended. But the medication dulls the pain and helps the patient to relax, gives them some relief, even if only temporarily. And given enough time, the injury starts to heal. It leaves scars. The person probably won't ever be exactly how they were before. How could they be after something so traumatic? But eventually they recover. They find a way to adapt to their new circumstances and they carry on as best they can.

It's cruel to expect someone to cope with a serious injury without any medication, right? It's just too soon and I can't risk it. So for now, my therapy sessions will remain our little secret.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N - I hope that those of you who are still with me won't mind that this chapter doesn't follow the same format as the others. It wasn't a conscious decision on my part; Edward was just demanding a bit more attention than usual. Feel free to let me know what you think.**

She felt that we failed to communicate? She knew me better than anyone. Well, except maybe Alice, but she and I had known one another for decades. Despite the brevity of my time with Bella, I had connected with her more than anyone I had ever encountered... or ever would. I had never allowed myself to be so open before.

Admittedly, I had been protective of Bella. But she was human, and a clumsy one at that. She had this uncanny ability to effortlessly attract danger and stumble into misfortune. I _had_ to protect her.

Didn't she understand that everything I did was for her? Every decision was made with the intent of keeping her safe or making her happy. I always had her best interest at heart.

Occasionally, I suppose, I had been less than forthcoming. I had attempted to shield her from some of the more unpleasant aspects of my world. But again, it had all been for her.

And I had never told her outright lies... not until the very end, at least. But those lies were a necessity. A means to an end. She never would have accepted my leaving otherwise. I knew that I needed to extricate myself and my family from Bella's life. I never could have done so if she had argued and pleaded or tried to persuade me to stay.

While I may not have many physical limitations, there was no way that I could have withstood that kind of emotional assault. I would have crumbled and given in and stayed with her. I would have once again allowed my selfishness to override my common sense.

After the chaos that ensued at her birthday party, it was all too clear to me. I was playing with fire by allowing the relationship to continue. And Bella was the one forced to pay the price. She had already been injured at the hands of our kind with James. I couldn't bear to see her suffering again, especially when it was my own family's doing.

I never blamed Jasper. He works so much harder than the rest of us at living this lifestyle. It's almost painful to see the amount of effort and energy he devotes to this choice. And yet, still to this day, he struggles.

It really shouldn't have come as any surprise that Bella was injured in our presence or that Jasper had instinctually reacted the way that he did. The only surprise was that it hadn't happened sooner.

I was actually grateful that the events unfolded as they did. It illustrated so clearly for me that our worlds were meant to be separate and distinct. I never should have permitted them to intersect as they had. She was quite literally risking her life to be with me, each and every day. I considered myself lucky that I was able to reach this conclusion before she could suffer any irreparable harm.

She had willingly given up so much. Any chance at a normal relationship, the opportunity to marry before her family and friends, the possibility of children, the promise of growing old together. I couldn't offer her any of it.

Bella deserved that and so much more. Her safety and well-being, her future and her very life were too high a price to pay for her to be with me. So the night of her party I decided that I could no longer allow her to make that kind of sacrifice. Not for me.

Instead, I made the ultimate sacrifice for her. I ended the relationship and walked away from the only woman I ever loved. Gave her the opportunity to lead the life that she was meant to live...

There was a noise outside that startled me from my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. I heard Alice's mind long before she entered the house, but it was jumbled. I was having difficulty discerning a single, cohesive thought. The tenor, however, was quite clear-she was not pleased with me.

"Really, Edward. Would you please pay attention?" she yelled as she burst through the door.

"What are you talking about, Alice?" I asked feeling a bit bewildered. I had no idea why she was so upset with me. No doubt it had something to do with a vision.

All too often my favorite sister launched into these conversations as if everyone had the benefit of having witnessed her visions. Completely forgetting that she needed to provide a bit of context to help bring others up to speed.

"You're going about this all wrong," she said as she paced the room. Clearly she was unable to stay till in her agitated state.

"What are you talking about?"

"Tell me what you're doing. Tell me what you've been doing since I left." She demanded.

"I opened the package and discovered that it was Bella's journal. I've been reading it." I managed to tell her, barely holding on to my patience. I know that she means well, but I didn't appreciate her interference or the delay in reading the next entry.

"Are you reading this journal as if it's some best-selling biography? Rushing through it, anxious to get to the end?"

"After all this time, I've been handed an opportunity to know what happened. To confirm that she recovered from my leaving and went on with her life as I intended. Of course I'm anxious to know what comes next and where it all ends! What's wrong with that?"

She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. When she opened them she spoke to me like a kindergarten teacher reprimanding a misbehaving child. "Edward, this is Bella's journal. Don't read it, experience it. Take the journey with her. Take the time to understand what she's trying to tell you in each entry."

I suddenly realized that I was practically pulling my own hair out. Apparently Alice wasn't the only one who was agitated. I unclenched my hands, sliding them down my face and taking a few moments to collect myself.

"Alice, I am not a child. I could do without the condescending tone. And since when do you have a PhD in psychobabble?" I quipped.

The look on her face was one of sadness and pity and something else that I couldn't quite define. The sadness and pity were all too familiar; part of the reason that I avoided any unnecessary contact with my family.

"Edward," she whispered, "you're blowing it... again." If I didn't know better, I would have sworn that there were unshed tears in her eyes as she turned away from me. But that was impossible.

Alice took several steps before slumping down onto one of the couches. It was disconcerting to see her so deflated and depressed. It wasn't natural, not for her. And it brought me to my senses.

Clearly, she was here to help me. She had come back for a reason and I wasn't being very receptive. The journal was bringing all of my pain to the surface and I had been wallowing a bit when she showed up. I was also on edge because I was anxious to continue with the journal. It may not be a best-seller but I was more obsessed with it than any published work. I had never before felt such a compulsion to read anything.

I approached Alice and sank onto the couch next to her, "Alice, I'm"

"Apology accepted." Instantly she was back to normal, bright and bubbly.

She took my hand and we sat together in silence for a few moments. Then she turned to me and it was clear from her serious expression that, while the disagreement was over as quickly as it began, the conversation was not.

"Edward, please listen to me. Since I left you with the package I've been getting these random flashes. It's been a constant barrage of blurry images. It's not one of my normal visions."

"Is it Bella?" I interrupted, anxious and hopeful and worried all at once.

"No, it's not Bella, it's you. I can't seem to put the pieces together. I saw the journal, but not its contents. The rest is foggy. But Edward... I know that this is important. You need to stop racing through the entries, stop reacting to it and really feel it. Listen to what Bella is trying to convey. Think about it and process it. Feel it. Otherwise... I don't know what's going to happen, but I know that it isn't good."

"Alice, I don't know what that means! I am feeling it and it's breaking my heart all over again. I've spent so much time trying to suppress these feelings. I never imagined that they were there, strong as ever, but dormant. Just waiting for the opportunity to resurface."

"But you're missing something! And I don't know how to help." Her thoughts returned to the days leading up to our family's departure from Forks. She had immediately left with Jasper; traveling to Denali. But she soon returned after a vision had alerted her to my plans. It was without a doubt the worst argument that had or would ever occur between the two of us.

She screamed and yelled and pleaded with me to reconsider. Tried to convince me that I was making a huge mistake, one that would affect us all. But these were the rantings of a girl faced with the prospect of losing her best friend. A sister wishing to save her brother from the devastation of losing his first and only love. There were no visions to support her arguments, no proof that it was the wrong thing to do.

And I knew that I had no other choice.

"Edward, tell me about the last journal entry that you read. I'm not asking you to read it to me, I know how personal it is and I don't mean to pry, but just give me the gist of it."

I proceeded to tell Alice about the efforts that Bella was making to reconnect socially, that she was in therapy, that she seemed determined to risk her life on a motorcycle and her newfound friendship with Jacob.

"What were you thinking about, just before I arrived?" she asked.

"Bella had written about her reflections on our relationship and she arrived at the conclusion that we had communication issues. To be honest, I was feeling a bit sorry for myself."

She was suddenly quiet and I realized why. Over the course of my relationship with Bella, Alice was always giving me a hard time about my decision to censor. She felt that I was being unfair to Bella, that I was underestimating her.

"Alice, we didn't have communication problems." Nothing but silence.

"She wrote about how she could sense the distance between us at times. She felt that I was keeping things from her. But she didn't want to confront me because she was afraid to jeopardize the relationship. Which is simply ridiculous!"

"And what would you have told her? If she had confronted you and accused you of keeping things from her, what would you have done? Told her the truth? The whole truth? Or some version of the truth that suited your needs? Would you have ever been completely honest? Trusted her and your relationship? Could you have respected her opinions? Even if they were different from your own?"

She spoke the questions so calmly, with no anger or malice behind them. This only added to their power and weight, and they cut me to my core.

I couldn't reply, but I didn't have to. Alice already knew. She knew that I would have continued giving Bella half truths, protecting her, sheltering her. And in doing so, would have prevented a true partnership.

I had steered her in the directions that I wanted her to go, manipulating, coercing, dazzling her. Using whatever means necessary to get the desired result.

I felt a strange tingling creeping over my skin, heard ringing in my ears. It was becoming difficult to breath which was alarming, despite the fact that it wasn't necessary.

Understanding dawned on me even as the panic tightened its grip around my chest.

"Alice, what have I done?"


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Some of you who are kind enough to review are also astute and have taken note of the fact that until now I've made no reference to the amount of time that has passed between Edward leaving Bella and then receiving the journal. Sorry folks but that's intentional! So much of my story follows the plot line of the book; I figured that I needed some unknown to keep you hooked. Hope it's working!**

**Updated to fix issue with 4th paragraph. Something strange happened on import.**

Alice left me shortly after. I was feeling wretched, like such a fool. I had treated Bella like a child. Made her decisions for her. Failed to confide in her, trust her. I had excluded her and avoided the hard conversations. It was so much easier to take the coward's way out and pretend that I was being noble, doing it for her.

I would still argue that I did it with the best of intentions, but I no longer felt that this justified my actions.

I finally saw the situation from Bella's perspective, thanks to the journal and Alice's not so subtle reinforcement.

Suddenly, finally, it all clicked into place. I felt like a dolt for taking so long to see the obvious. And it's not as though my family hadn't tried repeatedly, endlessly, to knock some sense into me—both figuratively and literally.

But it never penetrated before now.

I had been so pigheaded and stubborn. I would listen to no one, confident that I knew better. Clearly, though, I was too close to the situation to be able to see things objectively. I was unable to be logical. I was ruled by my emotions.

I had believed that love was my motivation. And while I did love Bella, more than anything or anyone, fear was what had influenced my decisions. Fear of what may happen to her, this amazing, but fragile woman, when constantly exposed to my supernatural world. Fear of what the future would bring if we continued down the path that tangled our lives into one.

It only made matters worse that Alice was delighted. She slipped back into her psychobabble telling me that we had "made real progress." Toward what, though, I had no idea.

I just knew that I had stolen from Bella. Taken away her free will. Robbed her of the right to make her own choices. I abused the trust that she had placed in me.

And as if that wasn't bad enough, before abandoning her, I hurt her in the cruelest fashion. I reduced our relationship to a distraction and ripped the foundation of our love right out from under her.

I ran away. Just as I had done when Bella first arrived in Forks. I never suspected that I had such weak character. But when things got tough, I ran. And by doing so, I realized now, I had altered the course of both our lives forever.

I felt compelled to do something and spring into action. But I realized that my epiphany was likely too little, too late. With each entry in the journal, Bella was moving on. Healing, slowly but surely.

In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to find her, confess my sins and beg for her forgiveness. But that would be unfair.

What if she had moved on and established the perfect human life just as I had intended? What if she was happy? In love? Had a family? A fulfilling career? I desperately wanted to skip to the end of the journal and read the last entry or two to determine where she was now, both emotionally and geographically.

But of course, Alice had foreseen this. Stupid powers. She made me promise to continue with the journal, to read the entries in order and to take my time with each. So the only way to move forward was to go back in time. To continue with the journal. Without further delay I immersed myself once again.

* * *

><p>Dear Edward – It's been such an eventful day, I hardly know where to begin. It started out ordinary enough.<p>

Last night when I dropped Jacob off at home, he told me to wait until he called in the morning to head over.

This morning I decided to distract myself by cleaning the house while I waited. I don't think this place has ever shined brighter. I was clearly running out of things to do when I started wiping down the baseboards. Luckily, Jake saved me just in time.

And he called me with the most wonderful news—the bikes were done! I couldn't get to the reservation fast enough. Finally, I would have the chance to put this danger/adrenaline theory to the test!

I don't know anything about bikes, of course, but they look amazing. And Jacob was so sweet; he had big bows tied to each one. The two of us were both giddy with excitement and couldn't wait to try them out.

Jacob managed to put both of them into the back of my truck while making it look effortless. I don't know what Billy has been feeding him. Or maybe there's something in La Push's water supply. But Jake is huge and ridiculously strong. He makes me feel like a dwarf.

Anyway, Jake said that he knew somewhere we could go where we wouldn't get caught or be spotted, so off we went. We were driving along the cliffs and it was beautiful. I felt so light and carefree until, that is, I saw what I thought was a man committing suicide. I totally freaked out, slamming on the brakes and jumping out of the truck.

I scared the crap out of Jacob, but when I finally managed to string a coherent sentence together to tell him what I thought I saw, he started laughing at me. Turns out that I'm surrounded by opportunities for dangerous, adrenaline-inducing fun. Jake explained that the man was cliff diving. I couldn't believe that someone would willingly fling themselves off the top of a cliff into the churning ocean below for entertainment purposes. I was flabbergasted as I watched three more men follow the first off the edge, plunging into the water below.

It was the most reckless thing I'd ever witnessed and I was instantly overcome with the urge to try it. I wanted to do it right then and there. But Jake convinced me that it was too cold and he also insisted that we wouldn't be jumping off the top.

We got back on the road, but he seemed really aggravated and that's so unlike him. He's always so cheerful and easygoing. It really irked me to see him upset. I managed to get him talking about it but I'm not sure what to think.

He told me that La Push has a gang of sorts, except they seem to focus on protecting the reservation. He said that Sam Uley is the leader and he seems to "own" the other guys. They appear to have some sort of sway with the council too.

Apparently, Sam has been looking at Jake funny and it's making him uncomfortable. Jake tried talking to his Dad but Billy was cryptic and didn't really help any. And now one of Jake's best friends has recently turned his back on him and started hanging out with Sam.

The way he described it, it almost sounds like a cult, but what do I know. I have to believe that if the adults on the reservation are onboard, then it can't be anything too bad. But Jake isn't easily upset either. I trust his instincts and have to agree that something seems off. I just don't know what I can do to help. I guess I'll just have to be there for him to listen and support him any way that I can. But that hardly seems like enough after everything he's done for me.

Eventually we made it to our destination and then it finally hit me. I was going to ride a motorcycle. I know that this was the whole point, but my palms were sweaty, my stomach, suddenly tied in knots. The reality of standing there with a bike was totally intimidating.

I did my best to hide my fear—Jake had worked so hard on these bikes, put so much time and energy into them. I didn't want him to think that I was ungrateful or trying to back out now. Besides, these feelings were the whole point of the bikes. I needed the danger and adrenaline to try to coerce your voice to return.

After a quick tutorial to review the basics—clutch, brake, gearshift—it was time. There I was sitting on the bike wondering how I had gotten myself into this. When it happened!

Your voice filled my head and you were spitting mad. I suppose that I shouldn't have been surprised, it's what I was after. But I was afraid to let myself believe that it would happen again. I didn't want to set myself up for more disappointment. I was afraid that even in my own imagination you would abandon me and refuse to return.

But there you were. Telling me that I was reckless and childish and idiotic. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I was so distracted by your voice that I released the clutch and the bike slipped. The next thing I knew I was on the ground, pinned down with the bike on top of me.

With no serious injury—to me or the bike—and confirmation that the voice wasn't a one-time thing, I was anxious to try again.

This time I managed to kick-start the bike myself. It took about a million tries, but the bike finally roared to life. It was so empowering. I felt strong on the bike. But more importantly, I was elated to have a few more stolen moments with you.

I wasn't so surprised when your voice started berating me again. I managed to pay attention to what I was doing and not lose control. Ever so slowly, I eased off the clutch and then suddenly I was flying. It was the most exhilarating feeling, the wind whipping, the motorcycle roaring. The speed was intoxicating. I felt so free and peaceful. Of course, it wasn't just the bike. It was you.

It sort of reminded me of running with you, but, to be honest, it was even better. I wasn't just a passenger this time around. I was the one in control.

Before I knew what was happening you were yelling at me to pay attention to what I was doing and in the next instant, I realized that the road was turning. This was a bad time to realize that I didn't really know how to take the turn. My instincts told me to hit the brake and before I could stop myself, I had slammed down on my right foot. The bike started to shutter and the next thing I knew I was on the ground with the bike on top of me once again.

I felt dazed and dizzy and delighted and despite my circumstances, I couldn't stop smiling. I had ridden a motorcycle and figured out a way to control the voice in my head. Which meant that I could force you talk to me anytime I wanted simply by placing myself in harm's way. Talk about a head rush.

Unfortunately, that was the end of the lesson. Jacob came to my rescue and had to spoil all my fun by pointing out that I was bleeding.

I instinctively apologized. Old habits die hard.

Once I realized that I was injured I could smell the blood and started feeling nauseous. Luckily, one of us was thinking clearly. Jake gave me his shirt to try to stop the bleeding while he managed to get the bikes back in the truck. He was insisting on driving me to the hospital because he thought that I'd need stitches.

Judging from the amount of blood on his t-shirt and the fact that I had hit my head in the fall, I figured it was smarter not to argue. But I did manage to convince him that we should first stash the bikes and get me a change of clothes. Charlie was bound to hear all of the details of my hospital visit and I couldn't come up with a suitable cover story that would explain away the dirt and grass and various plant life that had smeared itself all over my clothes.

Jake didn't like it, but he also didn't want either of us getting into trouble. Eventually I bullied him into agreement and determined that once I was cleaned up with a fresh set of clothes I would just tell everyone that I fell in the garage and hit my head on a hammer. That totally sounds like something I would do, right?

Well, maybe it wasn't the best cover story ever, but the folks in the ER bought it and so did Charlie.

The injury wasn't so bad—a mere seven stitches—and the doctor said that it shouldn't leave a scar. And the pain isn't so bad... I've suffered through much worse.

All I know is that nothing is going to keep me from riding again... so I suppose I'll be hearing from you soon.


	9. Chapter 9

I have to admit that as I finished the entry, my first reaction wasn't an emotional one. I was stunned that neither Bella nor Jake had enough sense to even consider wearing helmets. Especially with Bella's clumsy tendencies and the fact that she had no experience on a bike.

I realized, of course, that with youth comes a sense of being impervious, but Bella knew better. Though, as I considered the matter further, I realized that Bella was intentionally courting danger in order to hear my voice. Even if the thought of a helmet had occurred to her, she probably would have dismissed it, fearing that it would reduce the risk and, therefore, the likelihood of her obtaining the desired result.

My heart ached knowing that Bella had once again been injured. As silly as it seemed, I felt responsible. As if I were controlling the voice in her head that sounded like me. As if I should have been able to prevent the accident instead of causing it by distracting her from the task at hand. I was glad that it wasn't more serious, but clearly this was just the beginning with the bikes.

I knew that these weren't the types of thoughts that Alice would approve of. She insisted that it was important that I really process on a touchy-feely level. I couldn't help my initial reaction, though. Ever since that first moment in Biology, I'd been hard-wired to be attuned to Bella's safety and any threats to it, even if, early on, those threats occasionally included me. As Bella herself had written, old habits die hard.

But I took the time to allow my safety-obsessed thoughts to run their course. And then I started pondering everything else that I had read. As my mind quieted, I was surprised to find that I had a lot of emotional responses.

First, I was jealous of Jacob. She may have been pursuing what she perceived to be time with me, but in doing so, she was spending an inordinate amount of time with him. I envied him that time. I had never before in my immortal life wanted to be someone else. But I wanted to be Jake. I wanted to be the one taking care of her, laughing with her, having fun with her.

And that lead me to another realization. I knew that Bella and I had loved one another and enjoyed spending time together, but how often had we done anything that could be considered fun by human standards. It seemed to me that I had failed to court Bella properly. How many dates had I taken her on? Sadly, I realized, not many.

I was also disturbed by the fact that the only time Bella heard my voice was when she was in danger. Did that mean that she associated me with danger? Did she think, subconsciously, that I was dangerous? And why in the world would her imagination conjure up a version of me that did nothing but yell at and berate her? Is that how I spoke to Bella? Is that what she heard?

I knew that I could be abrupt at times and let my frustration get the best of me. But was it more than that?

I also had a sneaking suspicion that I knew more about the La Push "gang" than Jacob did. As far as we knew, it had been generations since any of the tribe members could shape-shift into wolves. We had assumed that with our treaty in place, there had been no need and so the transformations had ceased. But the behavior that Bella was describing certainly hinted at a pack mentality. I was going to have to pay attention to her entries to see if I could discern anything one way or the other. I fervently hoped that I was wrong. Werewolves were volatile and unpredictable. She may think that she wanted danger, but werewolves and the threat that they posed were the last thing in the world that Bella needed in her life.

* * *

><p>Dear Edward – The night following my first motorcycle ride I was prepared for the worst. I figured that there would be a high price to pay for those few stolen moments with you. But I didn't care; I knew that it was worth it. I was pleasantly surprised though. I still had my nightmare and it was still awful at the time, but I had a different awareness. Like I knew that I was dreaming. And I knew that eventually it had to end. It made it more bearable somehow.<p>

Jake disconnected my foot brake the next day and we just hung out in the garage. I was anxious to get back out there and ride again, but Jake insisted that I should wait a few days to let the gash in my forehead heal. It was sensible, but that doesn't mean that I agreed or liked it. I told him that I'd wait a few days, but that there was no way that I was going to wait until it was completely healed. I could tell he wasn't so sure about me getting back on the bike, but he's so focused on making me happy, I knew he couldn't refuse.

So Wednesday, after school I raced to La Push. Everything was going fine, better than fine. I had five minutes of uninterrupted time with you. I'd call it a conversation, but I was quiet. I didn't want to interrupt for fear that it would put a halt to my auditory hallucination. Besides, I had my hands full with the bike and you seemed to have plenty to say. You were so angry with me for breaking my promise to avoid doing anything reckless or stupid. I was mesmerized and dazzled simply by the sound of your voice. I was too caught up in the moment to argue with you at the time, but I've got to say I disagree.

I think the promises that we exchanged that day were bogus right from the start. You could never deliver on your promise, so why should I be held to mine? It will be as if you never existed. What a bunch of bullshit. Do you know that I actually felt guilty about the bikes at first, like I was betraying you? Can you believe that? After all this time, after everything that you put me through, I felt like I was letting you down by taking that kind of risk. But the more I've thought about it, the angrier I've become. Why in the world should I feel guilty for living my life and making my own decisions?

The way I see it, when you decided to leave you gave up the right to have any say. You don't get to condemn my choices. You don't get a vote. I'm doing everything I can to find a way through this. To find some sort of light at the end of the tunnel or to simply believe that there is an end. So what if it means that I take some risks and get some bumps and bruises along the way? That's life. You make a decision, follow through and deal with the consequences. I'm not doing this with the intention of hurting myself, but guess what... people get hurt. Life is messy.

It's all rather confusing to me. I crave your voice. I can't wait to find or create a situation in which I will get a small piece of you. And I'm elated when it happens. But then after the fact, I'm always angry about the things that you've taken the time to say. Cautioning me, berating me, trying to discourage me. I get upset with you afterwards, when I take the time to process the words that I've heard. I realize, of course, that these words aren't yours. They aren't really coming from you.

I don't know how to resolve this. Am I upset with myself? Is my subconscious trying to tell me what I need to hear in a voice that it knows I can't ignore? Am I mad at you? Am I projecting all of these things because I think they are the words you would say to me if you were still here? Still loved me? I'm not sure what it all means and, to be honest, it makes my head spin a bit when I think about it too much.

Maybe I'm just being ridiculous. I did suffer a pretty good bump to the head that day. Dr. White told me that I had a concussion and this time, the hospital had called home and talked to Charlie before I could run interference. At least I had an excuse for not sleeping well since Charlie was charged with waking me every few hours.

Charlie wasn't happy with another injury so soon. I was afraid that he'd get suspicious or tell me that I wasn't allowed to go to La Push any more. So I told him that I fell while Jake and I were hiking. Not very clever or believable. Maybe the head injury was worse than I thought. Luckily Charlie didn't press the issue. But he did make me promise to keep close to civilization. Apparently there've been so many reports about the mutant bear that the Forestry Department has been called in to investigate. Maybe it has something to do with your family leaving. The wildlife is flourishing with their unnatural predators gone from the area.

Jake suggested that we cool it with the bikes. I didn't want to; I wanted more time with you. But I had to admit that if I continued to detour to the emergency room every night before coming home it would only be a matter of time before Charlie took some drastic measure. But I was panicked. I'm ok when I'm with Jacob, or when I know how long I have to hold it together until I see him again. I was afraid that by declaring the bikes off limits for awhile that I wouldn't be seeing him.

I've managed to find some sense of normalcy spending time with him. I'm doing much better, but I'm not kidding myself. I'm still not ok. It's still such a tentative, delicate situation. I'm afraid that the slightest change could erase all of this progress and send me right back to my high functioning coma. And that's not what I want. And I don't think that Charlie could take it either. Jake said that we could do anything that I wanted in lieu of the bikes. But what do I want?

I can't have what I want... because I still want you. So what else could I do that would mean spending time with Jake while chasing you? It was hard to think clearly. I felt like I was on the brink of a panic attack; my heart was racing, my breathing shallow. I started to feel dizzy. But I pulled myself together and came up with what might be my worst idea yet.

I told Jake that maybe we should go hiking. I thought maybe if we were lucky I could find the meadow. I know that hiking isn't generally considered a dangerous activity, and it probably won't get my adrenaline flowing. But the meadow is... I mean, was such a meaningful place for us. We shared so much there and at such a critical time. Maybe if I can find it, something of that tension and emotion will resonate. Of course, Jake only knows that I went to the meadow; he doesn't know that it's tied to you or that it's especially important to me. But he was game.

And thank goodness. I would have just parked the truck, started walking and hoped for the best. Jake, on the other hand, has a good head on his shoulders and is much more knowledgeable than I am on all things outdoors. He got a map and a compass and he drew these lines to determine and track where we've tried. Left to my own devices, I probably would have gone out one afternoon and been lost for days.

Today was our first day trying to find it and it was a bust. I want to find it, but I was almost relieved when we made our way back to the truck without a glimpse. I'm not sure how I'll react if and when we do stumble upon it. And I have no idea how I'll explain any reaction to Jake.

The hike itself was nicer than I anticipated. I think the physical activity was good. It cleared my head. I wasn't thinking about anything, but the blankness was effortless. I spend so much of my time trying not to think about things, I didn't realize how draining that was. Not until it stopped today. I had to concentrate on my footing, I was taking in the trees, listening to the sounds of the forest. I think I finally understand why so many people like hiking.

Unfortunately, I think my feet would disagree with my head. I bought hiking boots just this morning and this was an awfully long hike for breaking them in. But pain fades. It won't hurt forever.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Big apologies for the long delay between updates! Real life has interfered with my ability to submerse myself in the fanfiction universe. And for some reason I was having a really hard time writing this chapter. Hope that you haven't all given up on me and the story.**

**One other item to cover—I received a few questions/reviews about whether this was heading toward a Bella/Jacob story line. Depending upon your personal affiliations, this may be good or bad news, but I'm team Edward all the way. Without further delay... **

I felt extremely conflicted. I was grateful that Jacob was there for Bella, that he was doing his best to make Bella happy and keep her safe. But I was also angry with him for being so careless with her. I know better than anyone how stubborn she can be. I know that she's a force to be reckoned with when there's something she wants, she can be so determined. But she had been injured twice in less than a week! Granted, they weren't serious injuries, but they easily could have been. If he truly cared for her, and I suspected that he did, shouldn't he be more thoughtful? More concerned with her safety?

Of course, I had to concede that he was just a boy. As a teenager, he lacked the maturity and life experience that would make him more cautious. Those traits would only come with time. He was being more responsible than Bella, but I feared that it would be insufficient to protect her from herself.

I felt helpless. I knew that these entries were ancient history for Bella, but I was still overcome with an urge to intervene. As if I should race to Forks and intervene before the next motorcycle debacle.

I was also at odds about Bella's feelings toward me. She had every right to be angry and part of me believed that perhaps this signaled that she was progressing through the stages of grief. That would be a good sign, as it would indicate she was continuing her journey of emotional recovery.

But the other part of me, the selfish part, didn't want her to hate me.

Bella couldn't move on in any real sense while she was still in love with me, while she was still chasing the ghost of me. But was hate and anger towards me the only other option? I sincerely hoped that she would, in time, find a middle ground. One where she could acknowledge what we had once had and appreciate the memories of first love. One where she could think of me fondly with no more than a small pang of sadness. Was that unreasonable? Wishful thinking?

She was right, of course. I forfeited any right to influence her life when I left her. And human lives certainly had their share of messes. And yet, I couldn't help but wish and hope that she would make choices and decisions that would keep her safe and lead her to happiness.

I was also beginning to see that my parting words to her had been another huge mistake.

By asserting that she must keep herself safe, I provided an easy and obvious opportunity for her to rebel. Perhaps she wouldn't have been so compelled to seek danger if it wasn't in direct defiance of my final request? Perhaps this was the reason she heard my voice when she found herself in danger? If so, then I supposed I would have only myself to blame if any harm came to her during this thrill-seeking phase. Dear God, please let this be just a phase.

* * *

><p>Dear Edward – Time has been flying by. I've been keeping myself so busy with school and work, chores around the house and time with Jacob. I've gotten into a routine and it really suits me. When I'm scheduled and regimented about things I don't have empty chunks of time. And that helps to keep me from thinking too much or wallowing. Keep busy with what I have and there isn't an opportunity to dwell on everything that's missing.<p>

The schedule also ensures that I have no problem falling asleep each night. I haven't written in here for awhile because when I finally have some time to myself I'm too exhausted to do anything besides crash. I had hoped that tiring myself out would have helped my sleep to be more restful, but I'm still haunted. There's no escape.

In my latest session with Bridget we finally delved into my dream. Once again I told her as much of the truth as I could. I told her about that day in the woods when you left me and how every night my dream is a variation of that day. She asked a lot of questions, but didn't offer me a lot of insight. She did mention that if my subconscious is playing this out for me night after night, it would suggest that I'm struggling to resolve something. For the life of me I can't figure out what that might be.

What is there to work out? You didn't love me, you didn't want me anymore. The novelty of the human girl with the silent mind wore off and you decided to move on. It seems pretty clear and obvious to my conscious mind.

I know that I still love you. I've tried to stop, but I don't know how. And, the truth is, I don't really want to. I'm sure that's why it hasn't worked.

But in that case, why do I torment myself with a looping dream focused on the end of us? I want to be with you, want us to be together. So why wouldn't I conjure up happier memories? Or fantasies of a future that will never be? Why do I obsess over the end? I have no idea.

Bridget suggested that I keep a dream journal. Does that sound hokey? She wants me to keep track of the basic events that transpire each day and my overall mood that evening before bed. Then in the morning she wants me to jot down the nuances of the previous night's dreams. It seems like a lot of work, but I'm willing to give it a try. I can't live like this forever. Eventually it would be nice to wake up and start each day fresh, instead of doing my best to recover, once again, from your leaving. I'm tired of being abandoned.

Jake and I have been riding the bikes a lot. The good news is that with all the practice, I've only had a few minor bumps and bruises, no serious injuries since my concussion. The bad news is that means that I'm fairly competent on the bike. Maybe that sounds strange, but it's bad news because it means the danger and adrenaline have subsided. And without the high risk and threat of injury... I've lost my connection to you.

I still enjoy the motorcycle—the speed, the power, the control. But I don't hear your voice anymore when I'm riding. You've been silent the last few times.

I know that I probably seemed angry in my last entry about you yelling at me, but I'd take that over this silence any day. I miss you and now I don't seem to have a way to trigger your voice. It's lonely without you.

So Valentine's Day was this week. I didn't even realize until I arrived at Jake's that night. He gave me some conversation hearts and asked me to be his Valentine. How in the world could I have missed the approach of this awful and over-commercialized holiday? If I hadn't been so clueless I would have been more prepared to deal with Jacob. It's been clear, even to me, for some time that our relationship is teetering on dangerous ground. I wouldn't say that Jake's feelings for me are stronger than my feelings for him. I need him in order to be able to breathe and live and function at a level that resembles normal (at least to anyone who isn't paying too close attention). It's hard to have feelings that top that. But there's definitely a different tone to his feelings. And I know that I'm an awful fried and a terrible person because I haven't done anything to discourage him.

How can I? How can I do anything to risk this tenuous life I'm trying to live? I'm just barely able to do it with him. There's no way I could do it on my own.

I resolved then and there to try to establish some boundaries so I stretched the truth and for the first time since we started hanging out I turned down an opportunity to spend time with him. I told him that I couldn't hang out with him tonight because I was going to a movie with some friends from school. I owed Mike a night out anyway, so I figured that I'd get the message across to Jake and satisfy my obligation to Mike all at the same time. Win-win, right?

But in typical Bella fashion, I botched the whole thing. Jake looked so dejected and disappointed that I immediately invited him along. I know that was counter-productive, but I couldn't help but imagine how I would feel if the tables were turned. And the truth is that the instant I invited him I started looking forward to it instead of feeling like I was fulfilling a duty.

I approached Mike at work and I was proud of the way I handled it. I was crystal clear about the fact that this wasn't a date, but a group of us going out. It probably sounds ridiculous, but after how poorly I'd handled the conversation with Jake, I had practiced what I was going to say to Mike. I needed to ensure that I stressed that it was a _group_ of _friends_ going to the movies—nothing more. And I did my homework. This time I found a movie that was 100% action-packed with a side of gore. No love story, no chance of anything hitting close to home. Mike wasn't too thrilled about it being a group thing, but he went along.

Before I knew it, Friday was here. The week flew by. There were only going to be a few of us since some of our lunch crowd had plans and others refused to participate the instant they found out that I was involved.

But then tonight, at the last minute, Angela and Ben had to back out. Angela seems to have caught the flu or something. I feel bad for her and hope that she's feeling better before long, but I felt even worse for me. It felt like a nightmare. One of those crazy ones where you show up to class having forgotten to study for the final or you find yourself out in public, realizing too late that you forgot to get dressed before you left the house.

In the end I found myself going to the movies with just Jake and Mike. And the awkward situation grew when the two of them took an instant disliking to one another. The way the two of them clashed, it was like watching one of those documentaries on Animal Planet. All I really wanted to do was call the whole thing off. But I couldn't come up with a plausible excuse fast enough.

The one bright spot in the whole night was that Jake finished the car he's been working on. I'm sure it took him a lot longer than it should have because he put it on hold to rebuild the bikes for me and he's been spending most of his free time with me. The only time he's had to work on it is when I'm working. He was so excited and I've got to say that it's pretty impressive that he can take these seemingly random pieces and parts, fix them, and put them together into a working vehicle. He thinks my cooking skills are impressive, but he's definitely got me beat.

Everything was going ok at first, but that was mostly because I was ignoring anything that would have jeopardized that. Like the fact that they both sat there with their hands lying face up as if it were only a matter of time before I would grab hold of one of them, declaring them the winner. I solved that problem by sitting with my arms crossed the whole time. They were competing, trying to top one another. It was really aggravating—why in the world would any girl ever want to have two guys acting like idiots fighting over her?

I was hardly watching the movie because I was so worried about what was going to transpire afterward, but eventually I gave it up and decided to try to enjoy myself. As it turned out, my worrying was for nothing. Poor Mike got sick about half way through.

And for better or worse, Jake and I ended up having a heart to heart talk. I told him that I think that our friendship means something different to him than it does to me and that I didn't want to hurt him. He insisted that he knows how I feel and that it doesn't matter. He's not going anywhere. I was relieved, but I can't help feeling like I'm cheating him.

He's my best friend and he deserves to invest in a relationship that has the potential to go somewhere. He thinks that given enough time I might change, but I know that I'm a dead end. There's not going to be anyone else for me. Not in that way.

He knows that it's you too. I was afraid that he would get all macho and stupid about it, the same way he was acting toward Mike. But he seems to know exactly what I need without a word from me. Like tonight, he knew not to say your name. How could he know that your name is taboo? Maybe it's because I never say it. But he also knew that I don't like listening to music. Sometimes, it's like he can read my mind. He's so in tune to me.

Mike was a wreck. I think he must have caught the flu that's going around. It's probably the same thing Angela had too. He got sick in the car on the ride home, it was awful. We had the windows down to air out the car and to try to help Mike. I was freezing, but Jake was like an oven. Anyway, when we got back to my place I drove Mike's vehicle home and Jake followed me. When we were heading back to my house, Jake was so sweet. It's like he knows exactly what I'm going through.

He was reassuring me that he's always going to be here for me, no matter what. How could he have known that my biggest fear is depending upon him and losing him? Especially after our conversation at the movie theater, it was exactly what I needed to hear.

I have no idea what I ever did to deserve such a good friend, but I'm damn lucky to have Jake.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: The good news is that it didn't take me as long to update; the bad news is that it's a short chapter.**

I was impressed with Jacob. I was still concerned about his ability to keep Bella safe physically, but I had to admit that it appeared he provided some solid ground for her emotionally. Hearing the inner thoughts of others, I knew all too well that there weren't many men who would stick around for a woman who was in love with someone else. Hell, most men were such fools that they wouldn't stick around for a woman who was in love with them. Fools, just like me...

Jacob may not be the person that I would choose for Bella, but he appeared to be honorable and kind. He was attentive and considerate. Clearly his feelings for her were genuine and I believed he was doing everything in his power to make her happy, make her whole again.

So, as much as I wanted to hate him, to tear him down, to focus on his faults, to demean him, I had to admit that those inklings were fueled by petty jealousy. I didn't like the idea of Bella being associated with the wolves, but perhaps I was worried for nothing. Maybe the "gang" that Bella had mentioned was nothing more than a few young men re-enacting the stories that they had heard about the tribe protectors in generations past.

But try as I might to be noble, it was not effortless. Her casual comment about how it seemed as though Jacob could read her mind cut me to my core. I would have given anything to know Bella's mind, to lose myself in the labyrinth of her thoughts. I was sure that she didn't mean anything by it, doubted that she had any intention of sharing these entries with me as she wrote it. But to read that she felt that sort of connection with Jacob twisted me up inside.

It also pained me to know that I was responsible for Bella's insecurities about being abandoned. Was the damage permanent? Would my actions prevent her from fully trusting and opening herself up to someone else?

I was so naive when I left. I had believed that she would miss me but was certain that she would recover and that she would do so relatively quickly. I underestimated her and the depth of her feelings for me. It's not that I didn't think she loved me—I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she did. But I had convinced myself that my feelings for her were far deeper than her feelings for me. And the only proof that I needed was the fact that she was human. I assumed that there was no way a human could feel anything as powerfully as a vampire. So that must mean that I loved her more? Better? Stronger?

However, with each entry, I began to believe that I had misjudged Bella and done her an incredible disservice. If I loved her so completely, how could I have discounted her feelings? What a pompous, arrogant buffoon I turned out to be.

Enough of my wallowing. I was allowing my self-pity to distract me from the other thought that had struck me while reading the entry. Bella was comfortable on the motorcycle now and clearly missing the opportunity to hear my voice. I was relieved to learn that there hadn't been any additional injuries, but I was nervous and bracing myself. If she wasn't getting what she wanted from the motorcycle it was only a matter of time before she moved on to the next adrenaline-inducing activity. I was petrified of what that activity might be. I had to assume that my imagination was far worse than anything Bella could dream up, so I steeled myself against whatever dangerous mayhem the next entry had in store and turned the page.

* * *

><p>Dear Edward – I can't believe that this is happening again. I can't believe that I was stupid enough to open myself up, to care, and to depend on someone else.<p>

Why didn't I learn my lesson the first time?

Maybe I was greedy. I wasn't content to just go through the motions, to live a half-life. I tried to get better, tried to reclaim some semblance of the girl I used to be.

It's as if the fates were watching and decided that I didn't deserve to be happy, to be at peace. As if the universe has put a cosmic kick me sign on my back. I can't be sure, but I'm pretty sure that it reads, "Lie to me and leave me."

Am I that terrible to be around? Is spending time with me so abhorrent that no one can stand it for very long?

You withstood it much longer than Jake, but maybe he had a lower threshold for the pain or misery or whatever it is that I inflict. After all... he's only human. It would make sense that a vampire with super strength would be able to endure more.

I'm finding it hard to breathe again. The hole in my chest is growing and I'm subjected to its constant, throbbing ache. I can feel myself shutting down, collapsing. And all the while, I'm coming apart at the seams. It's like imploding and exploding all at once and I'm pretty sure that the emotional fallout is going to be the end of my life as I know it.

What I don't understand, though, is why now? Why did he have to abandon me after our heart-to-heart? I know that I told him that I would never be capable of feeling for him the same way he feels for me, but at the time he said that he didn't care. He assured me that he could be patient and that he wasn't going anywhere. He knew that it was because of you and it didn't seem to matter.

He had just promised that he wouldn't do anything to hurt me, that he'd always be there for me. And I believed him. But now he's gone.

Maybe when he took the time to process everything he came to his senses and realized that he doesn't want to waste his time, his life, waiting for something that's unattainable. Maybe he didn't really care for me as strongly as I thought. Maybe this was all just some game to him.

No. No, that's not true. I may not understand what's happening right now, but I know Jake. I know that he was completely sincere when he said all of those things.

But I thought that I knew you too, didn't I? I believed that you loved me. I believed that we were meant to be, that we would be together for at least my entire life... if not longer.

Perhaps I'm naive and too trusting. Perhaps I'm a poor judge of character.

This isn't helping any. I can't stop thinking about what's happening with Jake right now, can't stop this incessant questioning. And I can't stop you from weaving your way into these thoughts. After all, this is just the sequel. It doesn't even begin to compare with the original.

It hurts and I'm falling apart, but it's not nearly as devastating as your leaving me was. But I'm starting from an entirely different place. I'm already broken. How much more can I break?

They say that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. But I'm not getting stronger. So does that mean that this is killing me? You always hear about elderly couples dying of a broken heart shortly after losing their spouse. So maybe it's possible.

I'm feeling helpless and hysterical and... alone.

My nightmares have taken on a darker, nastier edge ever since I realized that Jake's avoiding me. I wake up each morning feeling more drained and exhausted than I did the night before.

At first, I honestly believed that he was just sick. Mike had been a mess and then I caught it and was knocked on my ass for a day or so. It made sense that Jake would get it too.

But it's been almost two weeks now. I made Charlie do some unofficial investigating and Harry Clearwater told him that there were issues with the phone lines down in La Push and that Jake had mono.

I even believed that at first, because I wanted so desperately for it to be true. For there to be a logical explanation that didn't mean that I'm on my own.

But this day and age, phone lines don't stay down for weeks without some sort of natural disaster. And even if Jake does have mono, he wouldn't leave me hanging like this. Just like he knew all of those other things about me without me having to tell him—he knows how much I depend on him. He knows how fragile I am.

The last time I spoke to him he sounded so strange. At the time I figured that it was just because he was sick, but now I think that he was feeling bad because he knew that he didn't want me around any more but he was feeling guilty about it. Guilty because he knows that I'm a basket case who needs him. But what 16 year old boy wants to be saddled with a crazy girl? Especially one who is just a friend.

This is exactly what I was afraid would happen. I saw it coming, and yet that doesn't make it any less devastating.

I'm alone and empty. I have no idea what I'm going to do.

I suppose the silver lining is that, once again I've lost everything, so I know things can't get much worse.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Long wait but long chapter. I blame Edward and Bella; they seem to have minds of their own sometimes.**

Since leaving Bella, I had thought of myself as a martyr. Selflessly enduring the excruciating pain of being alone in order to ensure Bella's future happiness.

But I wasn't really alone. I was surrounded by my family, who loved me unconditionally, despite the fact that they objected to my decision to leave Bella. They knew me, understood me, stood by me and supported me. They knew my secrets, my fears, my strengths and my weaknesses.

After reading Bella's last entry, I realized that I knew nothing of being alone.

Certainly she wasn't alone in the world—she had Charlie and Renee. She had a few friends or at least acquaintances at school. But how well did they really know her? Ever since she had arrived in Forks and figured out what I was she had distanced herself from other humans. She had to, in order to protect me and my family and our secret. She could no longer be completely honest with the other humans in her life and was routinely required to lie, either by omission or outright.

I had unintentionally created a chasm between Bella and her family and friends. I introduced her to a world that was separate from everything she had ever known, I pulled her over into that world. Only to abandon her, to take that world away.

That left her in a strange purgatory. The supernatural world that I had shown her was gone, but she knew enough that the human world no longer fit quite right. I couldn't even begin to fathom how she felt.

Seeing this through new eyes, I admired even more her strength and determination to try to reclaim the life she had before. Her attempt to once again be a "normal" human girl with a normal human life. It must have been incredibly difficult, but it had been paying off. She was working through it, healing from the hurt that I had caused her, however slowly. And in the midst of it, Bella had done the bravest thing possible; she had taken the leap of faith necessary to trust again.

Only to have the whole thing fall apart...

I wanted to be angry with Jacob. I wanted to blame him for the pain and anguish that she was feeling. I wanted to make him pay for hurting her.

But I couldn't.

I knew that I was the responsible party. I was the one who had broken her in the first place. It wasn't his duty to try to piece her back together, to be the glue necessary to hold those shattered fragments in place. To clean up the mess that I had made of the only woman I had ever loved.

It must have been difficult for Jacob to listen as Bella explained that they could never be more than friends. That she couldn't return his affections. I applauded her for her honesty, but I feared that, ultimately, this may have been what caused Jacob to run.

What sixteen year old boy wants to stand by waiting for a girl who loves someone else? Especially when that someone else had hurt her so terribly?

I certainly wished that he would have handled the situation differently, with a bit more aplomb. But again, he was a teenager. He was probably hurting and that would have prevented him from being able to make logical decisions or be more considerate of her feelings.

And who was I to judge? He may have walked away from her without explanation, but he didn't lie, he didn't lash out at her, he didn't say mean, awful, hurtful things.

I had felt Bella's devastation pouring off the pages of her last entry. It enveloped me and seeped in. Collecting in the empty space within my chest. I could feel it twisting and turning and expanding inside me.

This ache, this pain, it was Bella's and it was mine. And it was more than even my immortal body could contain. I was shaking and sobbing and hyperventilating as the weight continued to grow.

I instinctually folded in on myself, assuming a fetal position. Logically I knew that this breakdown or panic attack or whatever it was couldn't last forever. But as the seconds ticked by into minutes and minutes into hours I began to feel as though it might.

An all consuming grief had taken hold of me and I felt powerless to stop it. I wasn't even sure that I wanted to. I didn't deserve a reprieve.

I was fully conscious and yet totally unaware—of myself, my surroundings, the passing time. Perhaps this was the vampire version of a coma. Wasn't that how Bella had described her condition in an earlier entry? It seemed such an apt description.

I began to return to myself slowly, in stages. It was like waking from a dream (at least as I had heard it described in the minds of humans, I no longer remembered for myself) or resurfacing after diving at dangerous depths.

I felt physically weak, as though I had been run over by a train. Emotionally, I felt unsteady and fragile.

Bella had endured these feelings for months but I feared that I lacked her stamina. I was a coward and could not help but feel relief when that these feelings began to release me from their grip. I was not free of the pain, but it was subsiding.

I wanted to resume reading Bella's journal but accepted that I needed to tend to myself before doing so. Besides, I didn't think that I could concentrate enough to read in my present state. After staggering to my feet and swaying a bit I decided that a quick hunt was in order.

Despite my awkward and clumsy state I managed to take down a red stag. The whole episode was rather off-putting though. I felt like a newborn fumbling about, making a mess. I lacked my usual grace and it seemed to require great effort. And there was so little satisfaction.

The physical effects of the blood were unmistakable. My strength returned—at least now I felt like I was _recovering_ from being hit by a train. But the emotional turmoil continued to bubble just below the surface.

The only way out, the only hope for reducing or, dare I say it, eliminating this torment was Bella's journal. I had to continue down this path wherever it may lead. I dashed back to the house as quickly as I could and began the next entry.

Dear Edward – How could I have been so stupid? I actually thought that things were as bad as they were going to get when writing my last entry. Silly me, I'd forgotten that things can always get worse. And today they did.

I almost died again. I don't mean that in the figurative sense, like "I could have died of embarrassment." I mean that in the literal sense, as in, I almost died at the hands of a vampire.

It has happened so often over the last year or so, it's got me wondering how many other times my life has been in danger. How many other times was a vampire coming after me both before I arrived in Forks and since? I'm convinced that there've been other close calls that I'm not even aware of. How many of these situations did you try to shield me from?

But here I am all alone now. No protection. No one I can turn to. I wish that there was someone that I could talk to about this. Someone to listen so that I could get it all out. Someone to offer me advice, reassure me that everything will be ok... even if it won't. Someone to share the burden and understand what I'm going through. But it's just me.

I'm trying to consider all of my options, run through the different scenarios to figure out what I should do next. It's an impossible situation though and I can't come up with any options that result in my survival. I think the best I can hope for now is to make choices that will protect as many of my friends and family as I can.

It's funny, ever since you left I thought that I didn't care if I lived or died. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't suicidal, I would never hurt myself. But I had lost the will to live, the desire or drive or whatever it is that keeps us humans trying. The force that propels us to continue fumbling through life. But today, faced with my own death, I realized that I very much want to live. Despite your leaving me, despite Jake turning his back on me. Life might be painful and hard and exhausting, but I want to live. Unfortunately, this revelation may be too little, too late. It seems as though the odds are against me lasting much longer.

Look at what we went through with James and Victoria. I had you and your entire family helping me, protecting me, trying to keep me safe. There were seven of you against the two of them and it still wasn't easy. So what chance do I stand alone?

I'm actually grateful now that Jake has been avoiding me. At least I know that he should be safe. I don't really know how much time has to pass before a vampire would fail to be able to pick up and follow my scent to the Reservation. How long does it take for that trail to be washed away by the wind or rain or time? Or maybe they couldn't follow it because I'd driven there? I'm angry with you all over again. You were always so busy hiding things from me, sheltering me. As a result, I'm lacking some basic information. I'm ill-equipped to make the right decisions to protect everyone. If only you had been a little more forthcoming, more open about the whole vampire thing. I might stand a chance.

Since I can't confide in anyone, I'm thinking that I should write it all down here. It might be cathartic. And if I'm really lucky, maybe it will help me to see things in a different light. Maybe there are options that I've missed, alternative solutions that will reveal themselves if I can get it all out and take a few steps back. Maybe it will help me to gain a little perspective. Maybe the whole situation isn't as hopeless as it seems? It's worth a shot, so here it goes.

This morning I decided to call Jake again. I don't know why, but I guess I felt compelled to try. I knew that something was wrong, but some small part of me was still hoping that I had overreacted. That maybe I _was _just being melodramatic. If Jake really was sick, then things could go back to normal when he got better.

This time I got through and I talked to Billy. He confirmed my worst fears. He told me that Jake doesn't have mono and he's fine. He had gone out to the movies with some of his friends from the Reservation.

I was excited to hear that Jake had recovered and had broken out into a genuine smile for the first time since the movies. But then it hit me. He was better and he still hadn't called. He wasn't going to call. He's done with me.

I decided immediately that I had to get out of the house but I truly had no idea what to do with myself. I considered going down to Jake's to get the bike, but that would be impossible. Even if I could get back to the garage and get the bike without Billy seeing me, there's no way that I could lift it up into my truck. And what if Jake was there? I wouldn't know what to say to him and I'm afraid that I'd see pity or indifference in his eyes and it would be the final straw.

Besides, even if I could get the bike, I don't think that I'd be comfortable riding on my own. I may be experienced now, but I'm still me. Injuries would definitely be a possibility. I didn't think it would be safe to ride when there wasn't someone there to rescue me.

My next thought was hiking. That seemed like as good an idea as any and it was a gorgeous day outside. I had been paying attention to the map and compass when I was out with Jake so I was fairly confident that I could make a go of it without getting too lost. And I really had enjoyed it, the way my mind seemed to shut down and focus on the task at hand.

I chose to ignore the conversation that I'd just had with Charlie moments earlier. He had warned me to stay out of the woods. Something about a missing hiker. To be honest, I wasn't listening that closely. I'd been distracted by the whole mess with Jake.

So off I went. I quickly discovered that hiking isn't nearly as much fun when doing it alone. The woods had seemed so peaceful and cheerful when I was hiking with Jake. But this morning the forest just seemed empty and a little creepy.

But at least I was doing something with myself, not just sitting at home falling apart so I kept going. And before I could really process what was happening, I was there. I had found our... the meadow. There weren't any wild flowers in bloom, but otherwise it looked just the same. Yet it felt totally different. It reminded me of when I went to your house—it was barren and empty and devoid of all the magic that I had hoped to feel there.

I couldn't hold myself together and I collapsed to the ground. I felt as though the hole in my chest was preparing to consume me, all of me, so that there would be nothing left. But I did entertain a fleeting thought—glad at least that when I finally found this place I was alone.

There would have been no pretending, no hiding this reaction from Jake. What the hell could I have told him that would have explained this? If he hadn't abandoned me before, I'm pretty sure that witnessing this scene would have convinced him to make a run for it now.

I was wallowing and feeling sorry for myself. And I had to stop. I had to get out of here. It would have been all too easy to fall completely apart, to drown in my misery. But who would find me here? Who would rescue me from the forest floor this time? I wasn't near home and no one knew where I was. It was up to me to pull it together and get myself out of there. I was working on getting to my feet when a sixth sense prickled and a moment later I saw that I was no longer alone.

My brain tried to rev up, coming up with plausible explanations—another hiker, my overactive imagination. My subconscious was quicker and had already catalogued the lack of movement, the pale skin. For a moment I dared to believe that it was you. That perhaps the meadow held some magic after all. But things finally snapped into place and recognition dawned on me. It wasn't you, it was Laurent.

I don't know why I felt relief. I may not be a big horror movie fan, but I've seen enough to know that a girl alone in the woods with a supernatural creature—that never ends well. But it reminded me that you were real and out there, that I hadn't imagined all of it. And for that I was grateful.

We started talking and he mentioned that he had been by your house and was surprised to find me here when you all had clearly moved on. Something seemed off to me but the whole thing was so surreal and unexpected that it took me longer than it should have to see the obvious.

He looked exactly the same as when I had last seen him. Including his bright, brilliant red eyes. And I couldn't help myself, as I made this observation I shivered and took a step backward. That caught his attention and his expression reminded me that he was a predator and judging by his eye color, I was prey.

Laurent asked me whether you and your family come back to visit often and suddenly I was no longer alone. You were back. Your beautiful voice was there with me. I was so relieved to have the chance to hear it one more time before...

You told me to lie to him and I did my best, but everyone knows that I suck at it. Even my imaginary you was critical, you told me that I was going to have to do better.

I was trying to stay calm and keep him talking and lie and not panic and listen to what you were telling me to do. It wasn't easy.

And it didn't escape my notice that during our conversation he was moving closer and closer. I'm afraid that my voice started taking on a hysterical note and I had to make a concerted effort not to babble. The more I talked, the more likely I was to make a mistake and say the wrong thing.

I said your name during our conversation. It took some effort and I think that it gave me away. If I'm flinching and choking on your name he couldn't possibly believe that we are still together. I took a moment to realize that there wouldn't be a price to pay for saying it—I didn't expect to make it home tonight or go to sleep or ever be plagued by another nightmare again.

I told him that I'd let all of you know that he'd been in the area and we talked about Denali. He told me that he found the "vegetarian" diet difficult to maintain and that he cheated. Clearly I knew that already from his eyes, but I found myself starting to shift away. Of course, that didn't escape _his_ notice and you told me to stay still.

Logically, I knew that I couldn't out run him but I found it difficult to fight my instincts. They were telling me to run, to try. But I trusted your voice and did my best to fight the urge.

Laurent told me that he was here in Forks as a favor to Victoria and that she was going to be upset when he killed me. Upset, because apparently she wants to do that herself. It would seem that she has big plans to take me out as retribution for what happened to James. She figured that since you took her mate, she would take yours.

And in that moment the pain of knowing that her revenge would be empty and meaningless was all-consuming. You won't even know that she's killed me. In that moment I wasn't afraid of my death, I was hurting because I was once again being reminded that I'm not your mate, I'm not your anything. You don't love me.

My mind started wandering and I thought for the briefest of moments that you wouldn't even care if you did know. But I don't think that's true. Clearly your feelings for me were different than I thought they were or they changed somewhere along the way. But I can't believe that someone I spent all of that time with, someone I still love, could be indifferent to my death.

Your voice shook me out of my pity party. You told me to threaten him and I did. You told me to beg and I did. All for nothing.

He told me that he'd be quick and that the pain would be minimal. He told me that it would be merciful compared to what Victoria wanted to do. And in that moment I knew that it was over. I'd done everything I could to stall and distract. I had escaped death one time too many and my time was up.

I heard you roaring in my ears and I let down all of my defenses. I thought of you. I said your name and told you that I loved you, although I don't know if that was just in my head or out loud. But either way, what was the harm in reveling in my love for you one last time? I intended to enjoy these last few moments.

Laurent took a huge breath in, savoring my scent or fear or whatever and I knew that was it. But then the strangest thing happened.

He perked up like he had heard or smelled something and he started backing away from me. I started looking around trying to understand what could possibly be the cause, but I saw nothing. I turned back to look at Laurent and he was even further away now, staring into the forest as if he saw a ghost.

I followed his gaze and then I saw it. The largest animal that I've ever seen. It was huge and menacing as it snarled and stalked forward toward Laurent, passing by not ten feet away from me.

At first I didn't know what it was, but it was clear that it wasn't a bear. Your voice told me not to move, but I was in such shock I don't think I could have anyway. I was shocked that this gigantic monster of an animal existed. Shocked because this thing wasn't afraid of a vampire. Shocked because Laurent appeared to be afraid of it.

And then a moment later I saw that this giant... dog?... wolf?... I don't know, but suddenly it wasn't alone. There were four more of them. They were organized in some angular formation which meant that one of these things came out of the woods within an arm's length.

It stopped and looked at me and all I could think was that I'd rather die at the hands of a vampire than have these things attack me.

But it didn't approach me. Laurent turned and ran away and in the next instant those wolf creatures were bounding after him.

I knew that I needed to get out of there because before long Laurent would double-back or the monsters would. I couldn't really believe that Laurent would lose, but what did I know?

I wasn't sure that I could get away but I had to try. But it was like my central nervous system overloaded or shorted out. I couldn't get my arms and legs to respond to my brain. I was shaking all over and frozen in place for what seemed like too long. I was losing precious seconds.

Finally, I managed to get back on my feet and then I was off. At first I just ran blindly through the woods. I know that wasn't the smartest thing to do, but I was panicked. I was also even clumsier than usual if you can believe it. Eventually, though, I remembered the compass and I took a few moments to get my bearings to make sure that I started moving in the right direction.

And if I thought that the forest was creepy on the way to the meadow, I don't even know how to describe the trip out. Who knew that nature's little noises—leaves and pine needles rustling in the wind, squirrels skittering up the bark of a tree—could sound so sinister. I was convinced that I was never going to clear those woods. That something would be coming after me.

But I kept at it anyway; I wasn't willing to give up.

After what seemed like an eternity, I made it back to the road. Considering the circumstances I didn't think that I'd done too terribly; I was only about a mile away from my truck. At this point I was moving on autopilot. I was motivated by fear, but the adrenaline had run its course. I was physically and emotionally spent. But somehow I pushed through and ran the whole way back to my truck. After traipsing through the forest, tripping and falling again and again, running on the road was easy.

I'd never been so happy to climb into my cab and hear the familiar roar of my engine. It felt safe and reassuring. The truth is that I was such a wreck I probably shouldn't have been behind the wheel, but I couldn't afford to stay there a moment longer than necessary. And I sure as hell wasn't going to be able to relax or calm down sitting just a few feet outside the woods on a deserted dead-end road. So off I went.

As I pulled in at home I was surprised to see that Charlie was back from his day of fishing. But I quickly realized that it was dusk. A shiver ran through me as I realized how close I had come to finding myself in those woods after dark. The reality is that they probably wouldn't have been any more dangerous—the same scary things would have been after me day or night—but I wouldn't have had any defense. I wouldn't have been able to see the compass; I wouldn't have been able to see my footing.

I ran from my truck, anxious to be safe inside with the doors locked. I knew that what I craved was a false sense of security, but I'd take what I could get. Nothing would stop Laurent from getting in, but I had to believe that the wolf-things would be deterred. Unless of course they could huff and puff and blow the house down. Knowing what I do, those fairytales don't seem so funny or far-fetched anymore.

Charlie was mad at first after I admitted to the hiking, but then he realized that something was wrong. I told him what I saw, omitting the vampire part. And I may have fibbed a little and told him that I'd stuck to the trail. But the last thing I need is someone else running into Laurent out there.

He reported my uber-wolf sighting to the station—thank goodness he believed me. But what in the world are they going to do? I'm not sure how you would take down an animal that size.

So here I am. Afraid to close my eyes because every time I do I see Laurent about to strike or I picture Victoria with Laurent's words about her plans looping in my head or those giant wolves turning their attention towards me in the meadow.

I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually hoping and praying that I have my usual nightmare tonight. Because it would mean that I fell asleep and I desperately need some rest. And if I have the opportunity to dream, I prefer the usual to what I fear may appear after today's events. Your nightmare hurts and it's painful, but it isn't scary.

So there it is. That was my day.

I had hoped that this would help, getting this all down. But the only thing I've really accomplished is a hand cramp, as evidenced by my atrocious handwriting.

I'm afraid. For me and for Charlie. But I'm so tired that I can't think clearly. And even if I could, what would there be to do in the middle of the night? I can't run from this or try to hide because my scent would still lead them here to Charlie. I can't fight them, any of them, and win.

I suppose for tonight I'll have to settle for curling up in my bed, having a good cry, trying not to wake Charlie with my sobs, and praying that we both wake up in the morning.


	13. Chapter 13

No.

**NO NO NO NO NO NO** **NO**!

I slammed the journal shut and threw it across the floor. I no longer wanted to be near this tome of doom or its offensive words.

This couldn't be happening. (I was too caught up in my denial to realize that I was once again reacting as though these were current events. As if this had all just happened yesterday.)

Bella can't die. She shouldn't even be in danger.

I left so that this wouldn't happen. So that she would be safe. So that she could live and laugh and love again. She's supposed to grow up and grow old. She's supposed to live a long and happy human life. She's supposed to die of old age after collecting a lifetime of memories with family and friends.

This isn't right.

I had been certain that ending the relationship and leaving Forks with my family would eliminate the other-worldly risks in Bella's life. I was sure that with our departure, I had sealed the door between my world and hers.

But I was wrong.

Again.

I hadn't removed her from my world or my world from her.

In my attempt to protect her, I had left her exposed to my world but defenseless.

And it was my fault that she was in need of protection in the first place. My family and I were responsible for James' death. I didn't regret it for an instant—we had done so to save Bella's life and I would kill a thousand times over, vampire or human, if it were required—but I hadn't considered all of the possible consequences.

I wasn't a complete idiot. Clearly we knew that the relationship between James and Victoria was strong enough that she chose to assist him in hunting Bella. And she did so despite the fact that the odds were not in their favor. But I was troubled to learn that their bond was an intimate one. At the time, I hadn't picked up on that fact.

Regardless, though, I had tried my hand at tracking and went after Victoria after departing from Forks. I wanted to make sure that she was gone, that she wasn't coming back.

Bella was always teasing me that there wasn't anything that I wasn't good at. There was tragic irony—I finally found something that I'm not good at, something that I was terrible at, actually, and it was the one thing that Bella needed me to be good at. If I had been more successful at tracking, perhaps I could have gotten close enough to Victoria to pick up on her thoughts. I could have learned of her vengeful plans in advance and destroyed her. Solved the problem before Bella ever knew that she had one.

At the time it seemed as though Victoria was interested in being anywhere but Forks. She was jet-setting around the world. I thought she was just going about her business. It was clear that she and Laurent and James were vagabonds, wandering from place to place to avoid detection. But now, it would seem as though she had been leading me on a wild goose chase. She must have been aware of my presence and intentions. And she had conducted herself accordingly.

I never believed that I was the smartest creature on the planet, but I was certainly confident that I was intelligent, logical, and (thanks to my mind-reading abilities) well-informed. Since beginning Bella's journal, I was beginning to see that I didn't always make the best choices. I had started to doubt myself. Perhaps I wasn't as superior as I had assumed. But now this...

I found myself wondering if I wasn't, in fact, the stupidest creature. It seemed to me that in my quest to do the right thing for Bella, I had failed at every turn. Over and over and over again.

I wouldn't have minded being wrong—if only Bella wasn't the one to suffer the consequences. Why must she be made to pay the price for my arrogance?

I realized that the Quileute wolf pack had saved her life. And I was willing to bet that one of those wolves was Jacob. Once again, he was there for her. Cleaning up another mess that I had made. If Jake had just recently turned, then the pack was expanding.

With their increased numbers, perhaps they had been able to take out Laurent. That would certainly buy Bella some time. But if Laurent didn't return from this little scouting mission and report his findings to Victoria, it wouldn't be long before she came to investigate herself. And what then?

Or worse, what if Laurent had managed to evade the wolves? He would have returned to Victoria. She would know that Bella was alone, that we had left her behind unprotected. And she would also be pre-warned about the wolves. They'd lose the element of surprise.

And then there were the wolves themselves. They didn't know that Laurent was there at the behest of another vampire so if they did destroy him they would believe that they had eliminated the threat. They didn't know that Bella was being targeted so while they may be proactive in guarding the locals against vampiric threats, they wouldn't be focusing their energy in any particular place. They didn't have any of the background... and that meant that Bella was vulnerable.

I glanced across the room at the journal and the hole in my chest no longer ached. It was filling with a cold dread. It literally felt as though my chest cavity was turning to ice. I found myself feeling cold—something that I hadn't ever experienced in all my years as a vampire. I was astonished to find that my stony flesh actually had goose bumps and I was shivering. I didn't think that either was possible.

If anything had happened to Bella or Charlie or her acquaintances, I knew that their blood would be on my hands. I would be as guilty as if I had killed them myself. And there wasn't a damn thing I could do to stop or change any of it now.

For the first time since I had started reading the journal I wanted to stop. I didn't want to read the next entry. I was terrified to learn what happened next.

But my refusal to read the next entry wouldn't change the past. Not knowing wouldn't change the outcome.

I chided myself for being such a coward.

Since my departure Bella had shown such strength and courage and determination. It was imperative that I do the same. I had to face this head on. I had to know what had transpired and I had to prepare myself to accept responsibility.

I crossed the room to retrieve the journal, took a deep, cleansing breath (which seemed necessary mentally, if not physically) and quickly flipped to the next entry.

* * *

><p>Dear Edward – This whole week has been terrible. I can't sleep and when I do have nightmares. I yearn for the good old days when I knew what to expect. I'd gladly dream of your leaving me every night for the rest of my life, however long that might be, if only I could eliminate the guest appearances by Laurent and Victoria and Jake. I can't take these weird twists and turns. It's so much more exhausting and disturbing than my standard nightmare.<p>

The dark circles have reappeared under my eyes. I'm so scared of what's to come I find myself jumping at the slightest noise I hear and gasping when I catch the smallest movement in my peripheral vision. I'm acting like the twitchy, crazy person that people cross the street to avoid.

I'm shocked each morning when I wake up because it means that somehow I've managed to survive another night. And then I panic until I can confirm that Charlie did too.

He's been giving me that look again. The one that tells me that he's worried about me falling apart, that I'm breaking his heart. The truth is that it's breaking my heart too.

I don't want to die but I think that it's inevitable. Well, clearly it's inevitable I'm human, but I think that it's going to happen soon. I've had more time to think this all over but I haven't come up with any solution or plan. Nothing that would delay this or save me from it. So if it's going to happen and there's nothing that I can do to prevent it, I wish that Laurent or Victoria would just hurry up and get here already. This anticipation and worry is making me insane. And I despise this feeling of helplessness.

The nights are the worst. Maybe I'm wrong, but I imagine that they'll come for me at night. Fewer witnesses, less chance of being spotted or interrupted. But I hope I'm wrong. There's nothing that I can do to get Charlie out of the house at night, so that means that he'll be in the way. I don't want him to be collateral damage.

There is one shred of hope. Laurent told me that Victoria has a slow, painful death in store for me. So I'm thinking that means that it would be a grab and go. If she wants to take her time then she'd be taking me somewhere else, right? Hopefully she'll just leave Charlie be. Maybe if I can manage to keep quiet he'll be spared. I just hope that I'm strong enough to remember that when the time comes.

I was supposed to have another therapy session with Bridget this week, but I called to cancel. I can't even think straight, there's no way that I could edit and censor enough to have a conversation with her. Charlie doesn't know and I'm hoping that he won't find out. I rescheduled because I thought that Bridget might not make an issue of it if I presented it as a simple scheduling conflict. So far Charlie hasn't brought it up, so I think it worked.

And the situation with Jake has taken a turn for the worse too. All week long I kept hoping that I'd hear from him. I could have really used a little lift—seeing his smile or hearing him laugh. Or just having him sit with me and hold my hand. It would have been nice to be a little less alone, to set my fears aside even for a moment.

I'm ashamed to admit it, but I turned into quite the stalker. I called every day and on Wednesday I snapped. I called every half hour up until 11:00, but still no answer, no response. I just couldn't believe that he didn't even have the decency to call and talk to me, to be straightforward with me, to end this in person. Don't I deserve an explanation?

Then today I had a huge epiphany. Jake _is_ decent and he _would_ call me back. If he didn't want to hang out with me, he would just say so. He would never hurt me like this on purpose. And suddenly I realized why Jake has been acting so out of character. It's because of Sam. Wasn't Jake acting the same way that he had described Embry?

Maybe he was being controlled and wasn't allowed to reach out to me. Or maybe he was in trouble and was trying to protect me, in much the same way that I had been avoiding going to the Reservation in an effort to protect him from my troubles.

I decided that the danger of losing Jake to Sam and whatever that gang was mixed up in was far worse than the risk of a vampire following me to the Reservation. So screw it, I was going. I tried to talk to Charlie about it but he blew me off. I guess I can't really blame him when he's got two missing hikers and a pack of wild monster wolves to worry about. And I tried to call Jake one last time and Billy confirmed my fears when he told me that Jake was hanging out with Embry. My decision was made—I would sit in front of his house waiting for him all night if I had to. We were going to talk and I was going to do everything in my power to save him.

I ran into Quil on the way there and if I'd had any doubts about what was going on, this would have erased them. He told me that Jake's been avoiding him and hanging with Sam and the others. I feel like such an idiot for not figuring it all out sooner. Some friend I turned out to be. Jake had been in trouble and he needed me, but I had been too wrapped up in my own worries and too busy feeling sorry for myself to notice.

So I got to Jake's and settled in for what I expected would be a long wait. It wasn't. I had just started doodling when there was a tap on the window. And there he was. Only it wasn't Jake. Not my Jake. This Jake looked hard and angry and bitter. No trace of a smile or laughter. It was like he didn't even recognize me—there was no warmth, no indication that up until very recently we had been close friends. He had cut his beautiful hair short and I swear he looked like he had grown again. He was a stranger.

I quickly realized that Sam and the rest of them were standing behind him in the yard. Like Jake needed back up or something. Like I was some kind of threat. And in that moment I realized that I wanted to be. I wanted to be big and tough. I wanted to be able to scare the shit out of Sam so that I could rescue Jake from his clutches. I wanted to be a vampire. And in the next instant I felt the ache in my chest. I'd wanted that for a long time and, for awhile, I had actually believed that it might happen. But no more. This sort of thinking is against the rules, off-limits, and I didn't have time to be wallowing. I had a mission, so I tried to pull myself together.

I got Jake to agree to talk with me alone, although not before he had sought out Sam's blessing or permission. It made me sick. Like he's not his own person anymore. I can't understand why Billy would allow this. Why wouldn't he do something to stop it?

We talked for a few minutes but I can't seem to make sense of it. That was partly my fault. I had been in such a hurry to get here and save him that I hadn't taken the time to think about how to go about it. I had no idea what to say and I'm afraid that I handled it poorly. He went on the defensive, defending Sam and telling me that we aren't friends anymore. He said that I can't help, that no one can, and he actually flinched away from me when I reached out to him. Like I'm the one who's changed, like I'm a leper or something.

And then he told me that it's your fault, well, your family's fault "for existing." And he knew what you are. How could he know that? How could this have anything to do with you when you've been gone nearly six months? I was struggling to keep it together and not give away what I know and Jake was so mad that he was trembling. He was shaking with rage.

Then the strangest thing happened. I'm standing there arguing with Jake and suddenly you were back. Telling me to back off and let him calm down. Why were you there? I wasn't in any danger. There wasn't any risk. No adrenaline, no fear.

The next thing I know Jake had snapped a tree in half and he's telling me that the conversation is over.

I'm not proud of myself, but I was so desperate I even tried lying. I begged him not to walk away from me. Told him that maybe, given enough time, I could feel the same way for him that he did for me. I knew even as the words left my mouth that they weren't true, but I was willing to do anything to bring my friend back. But even that didn't work.

And before I knew it he was gone, back to Sam. I was left standing there in front of his house in the rain. Abandoned and discarded... again.

A new pain started to take hold, right next to the gaping hole that you left behind.

I drove home feeling numb and defeated and useless. I can't protect myself or Charlie from Victoria and now I've failed to save Jake from Sam or himself, I don't even know.

How did everything get so messed up?

I can't even begin to imagine how this all happened with Jake. It hasn't been that long. Can someone really be brainwashed so quickly? Based on the things that I've read and seen on TV I would have expected it to take longer. So maybe it is drugs. I think that's the only thing, aside from a lobotomy, that could account for this complete 180 in Jake's personality. But there's no way that Billy would condone that, right?

I mean, Sam can't be controlling the whole Reservation. What did he do, cast some sort of spell? Are warlocks or wizards even real?

I feel so confused and so hopeless. I miss my friend. I miss the peace of mind that I was starting to create for myself. I miss the relatively carefree existence that I enjoyed before last week, when I didn't have to constantly fret over when it was all going to come crashing down.

And I still miss you. I wish that you were here. I wish that you still loved me. I wish for the safety and security that you and your family provided for me. Hell, I wish I knew how to get in touch with you—to tell you what's happening, ask for advice, beg for your help.

Would you help me? Would Alice? I can't help but wonder...

But that's enough of that.

I can't change the circumstances that I find myself in and I'm on my own. No amount of wishing and hoping is going to change anything.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: So sorry for the long wait! Summer has been busy and Bella had so much to cover in this journal entry. And maybe I'm subconsciously stalling a bit too, afraid of what's to come since we'll soon be veering off into uncharted territory.**

I felt as though a piece of me was dying with each entry that I read. It seemed as though every sentence had been constructed for the sole purpose of tormenting me. As if Bella was a sculptor and I her clay—she was recreating me in her own image with a giant gaping hole in the center of my chest.

Logically, I knew that wasn't so. I knew that these entries were simply Bella's way of trying to cope with the extraordinary circumstances that she found herself in. I knew that she couldn't confide in anyone. This journal had been her only outlet. But that knowledge didn't change the way I felt.

I was beginning to wonder why the journal had arrived. Why was she sharing this with me? And why now?

Had Bella sent it to me with the intention of making me suffer? Was this her way of exacting revenge for the hurt that I had caused her?

Was it intended as a cry for help? Did she need me? Even now while I sat here feeling tormented and sorry for myself, was she anxiously awaiting my arrival? Was this a summons for me to save her from the latest disaster?

Or did she somehow come to understand what I had done and why? Did she finally realize that I had loved her all along and that I had only done what I thought was right? Was there even the slightest possibility that she could want to be with me even now, after all of this?

I desperately wanted to skip ahead, past the pain and angst. But then I was stricken with a thought... what if that's all there was, just pain and angst? What if she continued to spiral further down into despair and depression with each passing page?

I may have been the one to break her initially but Jake had now caused Bella a pain that was all his own doing. I believed that he was trying to protect her, trying to safeguard her. He may be doing it for the right reasons but he was going about it all wrong. I knew that I, of all people, was in no position to judge him, but two wrongs don't make a right. He was repeating my mistake. And I was concerned about the long-term effects for Bella.

She had trusted Jake and I and we had both ended things in a horrible, cruel fashion. How much could one girl take? Would she ever be able to put her trust in another man? Would she be able to take that leap of faith again?

I had despised Mike Newton and been enraged by his thoughts of Bella. But maybe he would have been the safer bet for her. At least his shortcomings were those of a human, teenage boy. He came by them honestly. He didn't have bad intentions, just raging hormones. Isn't that what most teenage girls expect to deal with? Wouldn't that have been normal?

But instead Bella had dealt with me and my secret. She had been stuck coping with my gifts and limitations. And now she was stuck on the outside of Jake's secret world. She deserved better than this.

Seeing how she kept trying with Jake, kept calling and then made a concerted effort to save him from the supposed La Push gang, I felt justified in my leaving. She was relentless in her loyalty. If I had ended our relationship but stayed in Forks, she wouldn't have given up on me or us.

Just look at how she had gone after Jake. Determined to save him from Sam and whatever was going on. She wasn't about to give up on him even though it seemed he had given up on her. She had no idea what Sam and those boys were up to but still she had no fear, she charged right ahead. She would do anything to save someone she cared about.

If I had stayed she would have demanded more explanations and I knew that given enough time and pressure I would have cracked. I couldn't bear the thought of seeing her everyday, being so close to her and yet trying to maintain an emotional distance. I would have broken down and gone back to her. And, at the time, I was certain that would have been a mistake. But now...

With the whole Laurent/Victoria fiasco I was regretting the clean break. Imagine if she could have contacted me or even Alice. If we had been aware of what was going on we could have intervened. Cleaned up our own mess. But I had left her without any lifeline.

I was suddenly struck with a thought.

Why didn't we know what was going on? Why didn't Alice see any of this?

When we left Forks I had been adamant that Alice should have no contact and should not look for Bella's future. I didn't think that it would be appropriate to interfere any further in Bella's life. But I knew my sister and I didn't honestly believe that she would listen. At first I kept a close eye on her, but as time went by I shut down. I paid little attention to anything going on around me. It would have been easy for her to check on Bella and get away with it. In fact, I had assumed that, at some point, she would do just that.

So why didn't she? She loved Bella. I was sure she would have wanted some personal reassurance that Bella was doing alright on her own. She didn't agree with my decision and she certainly doesn't like being told what to do. The fact that checking on Bella would have defied me, well, that would have made it all the more appealing to her.

I wasn't blaming Alice for any of this. I knew that I was responsible. But I was curious and perplexed. I would have to ask Alice about this when she returned.

In the meantime though, I ached knowing that Bella felt so alone and hopeless. I hated that she doubted whether we would have assisted her if we'd been aware of the situation. Even if all of my parting lies had been true, I still would have been ready and willing to save her from this fate.

I could only hope that she had escaped unscathed. That the wolves were strong enough and savvy enough to protect her. To take out Laurent and Victoria. And with these thoughts swirling through my head, I braced myself and turned the page.

* * *

><p>Dear Edward – I don't even know where to begin. I've been sitting here staring at the blank page for awhile now. My thoughts are swimming, my head is spinning. The past 24 hours have been a roller coaster so you'll have to forgive me if I ramble and jump around a bit. I'm trying to work through it all.<p>

First and foremost, I'm beginning to suspect that I may be the only human here in Forks. I've learned that in addition to vampires, I've been living among werewolves too. It's got me wondering, is every fictional monster real? Trolls, fairies, leprechauns, demons, witches, zombies, fairy god mothers, dragons? Does everyone but me possess super-human abilities?

I'm still trying to wrap my head around this, but I know now for certain that Jake is a werewolf. I saw it with my own two eyes. And yet, I'm having a hard time digesting this.

I don't know why. I accepted that you were a vampire with relatively little fanfare. Maybe it's because you were so obviously something more than human. It was clear to me that you were exceptional. So much so that I wondered how anyone could look at you and your family and not think something was amiss. But Jake was... just Jake. So I guess I'm struggling to process that Jake, a seemingly normal boy can transform himself into a giant wolf.

A wolf that can fight and kill vampires. According to him that's actually what he was made for. Destroying vampires. I'm not sure how to feel about that. On one hand, I'm glad. He told me that he and the pack killed Laurent. That means there's a chance that Victoria doesn't know that I'm alone and unprotected. I would have loved it if his demise had discouraged her, convinced her that she shouldn't bother with me, that she wouldn't succeed in getting to me. But it didn't. Jake told me that she's here now.

But I can't be completely at ease knowing that Jake and the others are here for the sole purpose of protecting humans by destroying vampires. I know that you're not here and that you aren't coming back, but it still irks me to know that the two of you are on different sides. How can I care so much for two people who are enemies?

This all started last night. Jake came to me at some ungodly hour. I woke to a scratchy sound outside my window and as I dragged myself out of sleep and into awareness I was sure that it was Victoria. That she had come for me at last. Of course, now I realize that's ridiculous. I'm not going to hear her coming, not going to have the benefit of a warning. But in my sleepy stupor, that's what I thought. Turns out it was Jake. He came swinging into my room like Tarzan. Said he was there to apologize, but I wasn't having any of it. He had been so awful to me. He broke my heart. I had fallen asleep crying over him.

He was trying to explain everything to me without really saying anything. It was so frustrating. I felt like he was playing a game or something, speaking to me in riddles. He told me that he needed for me to figure it out on my own. He told me that I already knew what was going on, that he had told me everything before. He started talking me through that first day that we had spoken on the beach in La Push. I knew the day he meant. It was one I will never forget. But the only thing that really stuck with me was the story he told me about the cold ones. That was the day that I knew for certain what you are.

Eventually he realized that I wasn't going to put two and two together without some sleep and he took off. He told me to think about it and to get in touch with him when I figured it out. In the end sleep was exactly what I needed. After he left I had the most vivid dream. I was in the forest down in La Push near First Beach. You were there, but so was Jake. And then right before my eyes, Jake morphed into a wolf. One of the wolves that I had seen that day in the meadow.

I woke up with a start this morning and it seemed so obvious that I couldn't believe that I hadn't seen it before. If the Quileute stories about vampires were true, didn't it stand to reason that the stories of the men transforming into wolves were also true?

At first I couldn't wait to get to Jake, to tell him that I had figured it out. But then I had a nasty dose of reality when I ran into Charlie. He told me that there was another missing person and that there were search parties out in the woods to try to take down the giant wolves. They've been finding wolf tracks near each of the sites and this last time there was some blood.

Last night, Jake insisted that if I didn't want to see him after I figured it out, that was ok, but he asked me to at least call him to let him know. As I spoke to Charlie it dawned on me—this was why he thought I might not want to see him again. He knew that I wouldn't be able to accept that they were killing people.

Why in the world, though, would they be killing people? Were their human tendencies totally absent when they were in their animal form? Were they unaware of what they were doing? Just acting on natural instinct? Did they need to feed? Did it have to be humans?

But if that were the case then why would they have gone after Laurent that day in the woods? Why wouldn't they have turned on me?

I couldn't make sense of it. But I realized that either way, I owed it to Jake to see him one last time and deal with this face to face. Maybe I could talk some sense into him and help him see that killing people wasn't the answer. He had been spewing such hateful things about you and your family yesterday afternoon. But wasn't that hypocritical? How could he judge all of you so harshly when you made the conscious choice to spare humans and live off of animal blood? How could he justify his feelings when he himself was attacking humans?

So I headed for Jake's, determined to have this hard conversation. And, right or wrong, I felt compelled to warn him about the search party. I may not approve of what he and the other wolves were doing, but I didn't see how more bloodshed would make it right either.

It was still really early when I got there and I didn't have the heart to wake Jake so I went to the beach to wait. I suppose that I should have been afraid. If he was a killer then meeting him alone on a deserted beach to tell him that I didn't approve of what he was doing was probably a risky thing. But this was Jake and I just couldn't bring myself to believe that he would hurt me.

Before I knew it, he was there. It was awkward and uncomfortable. We had this disjointed conversation during which each of us was misunderstanding the other. He thought that I couldn't accept him as a werewolf and I thought that he was upset because I couldn't look past the murder of innocent people. And in the midst of all of that, you were there with me again. Jake started getting really angry and he began shaking. You told me to calm him down. I didn't see the problem at the time, but I listened to you and, knowing what I know now, I'm so glad I did. Eventually he made it clear that he and his pack aren't the ones killing the hikers and campers. And I made it clear that I was ok with the whole wolf thing.

He told me that they had killed Laurent but now Victoria is here. They've been after her, but they've been a little too late each time—she's the one to blame for the missing people. They were operating under the assumption that Laurent was her mate and that she was coming at them as revenge. That's what happens according to their legends. Jake seemed excited that I was able to provide him with more information, that she _is_ seeking revenge for her mate but that it wasn't Laurent. And I was able to tell him what she's really after... me.

I learned a lot about the werewolves today. They certainly have their own oddities. Like they change when they get too angry or upset—no full moons required. They can't disobey a direct order from their pack leader, which of course is Sam. They heal incredibly fast. And they can communicate with each other telepathically while in their wolf form. Jake thought that he was giving me too much information all at once, and I think he expected me flip out or something. I told him that some of it might take some getting used to, but the mind reading thing wasn't new. He was surprised to learn that, like their stories suggest, some vampires have extra powers.

Jake seemed excited to be able to talk to me about all of this and, to be honest, it was a relief for me too. It means that I'm not completely alone in this anymore. There's someone that I can talk to openly, honestly. Someone who understands at least a little of it. But there's a price. He made a joke about me being a spy since I've been "behind enemy lines." It made me feel like a traitor, like I was betraying you and your family. But what choice do I have? I want to live and the pack seems to be my best chance at survival. So shouldn't I share what I know? Isn't that the least that I can do when they're out there risking their lives to protect me and everyone else?

And besides, didn't you and your family betray me first?

I decided that I'm obligated to tell them what I know about vampires, but I still don't feel good about it. I wonder what you would say, what you would think. Would you be upset to find out that I confided some of your secrets with Jake? Probably. But that's just too bad.

So Jake called a meeting with the others. He thought that it was important that they hear what I had to say. As you can imagine, they weren't excited to see me. They were angry that Jake had found a way to tell me when Sam had specifically ordered him not to. And they were pissed that Jake was defending me when they started hurling insults because of my relationship with you. One thing led to another and suddenly Paul and Jake had transformed into wolves right in front of me and started fighting. I was afraid that one of them would wind up hurt—I didn't want it to be Jake, but at the same time I knew that injuring one of his pack wouldn't be good for Jake either. It was so brutal to watch.

Luckily they took off into the woods and Sam went after them, sending me with Embry and Jared to Emily's. I learned that Emily is Sam's fiancée. I also got quite a lesson in the dangers of young, volatile werewolves. Emily is a beautiful woman, but she's got these awful scars on her face. Apparently she was standing too close to Sam one time when he transformed into a wolf. The damage is so bad that her cover story is that she was mauled by a bear. I can't even imagine how difficult that must be for Sam—being responsible for hurting her that way. But apparently it hasn't damaged their relationship any. I've never seen two people more in love. It was actually painful to watch and I felt like an intruder, witnessing their devotion to one another.

I suppose that what happened to Emily should scare me if I'm going to get involved with the pack. But I know without a doubt that Jake would never hurt me. I'm not so sure about the others, but I know that Jake would do what he can to protect me if it came to that. But I don't have any plans to try to incite them either. And in the end, isn't that the lesser risk? I could avoid the pack, but that would leave me vulnerable to Victoria. Knowing what I do about vampires, I think I'll take my chances with the wolves.

In the end Sam left it up to me, though, which I really appreciated. Jake thought that I should try to spend as much time as possible on the reservation. That way Victoria would have a harder time finding me, the wolves would know where I was, and they would be able to focus their efforts accordingly. But Sam told me that it had to be my choice since they can't guarantee my safety. I liked having a say in what happens to me. It made me feel empowered or at least a little less helpless.

The truth is that I hate needing their help. I hate that I can't take care of myself. I hate that others are going to be risking their lives to protect me. I hate having to rely on them to keep me safe. Especially, when I'm pretty sure most of them don't think I'm worth it. I could see it in their eyes. If I chose the company of vampires then isn't this what I deserve? To be hunted and targeted and, eventually, taken out by one? The only thing keeping them in line is Sam and the fact that they have to obey him. Well, that and the fact that they're crazy enough to think that fighting vampires is fun.

I just can't stand the thought of Jake getting hurt... or worse. And even though the others don't like me much, I don't want to see them hurt either. I don't want anyone else getting mixed up in all of this. But short of handing myself over to Victoria, sacrificing myself, I don't see any way to prevent it.

Maybe it was presumptuous of me, but I've given the wolves the right to go where they please as they hunt Victoria down and try to protect me. They explained a little bit about the treaty and if I understood it correctly there are boundaries they aren't supposed to cross.

I guess that technically they were on "your" land when they killed Laurent. And they also said that the treaty was very specific about vampires not being allowed to bite a human. They weren't sure that Laurent wasn't associated with all of you and they thought there might be trouble because they didn't wait until he bit me. It makes me shudder just to think about the possibility that they might have waited. I assured them that I was glad that they didn't wait. Treaty be damned. You all are long gone and you aren't coming back.

So I'm going to do everything in my power to protect myself and if that means sharing your secrets with the wolves or changing the terms of your historic treaty, then so be it.

I want to live. I want to survive this. And for the first time since I ran into Laurent that day at the meadow... I actually believe that there's a chance that might happen.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thanks so much to those of you who take the time to read and review. I'm thrilled to know that I'm not the only one enjoying it! There have been some questions about whether Edward and Bella are going to get together and, if so, folks have indicated that they wish it would just happen already. I suppose that I could reunite them and send them off to live happily ever after in the next chapter... but I won't. That's not the story that I'm telling. Like Alice tried to explain to Edward, this is about the journey.**

I was starting to feel numb inside, shutting down because I couldn't process all of this.

I wanted Bella to live. More than anything, that's what I wanted.

Logically, I knew that she didn't stand a chance against Victoria on her own. What could she possibly do to protect and defend herself?

But I absolutely detested the idea of her being near the wolves. Being present for a fight? Jake constantly on the verge of shifting into wolf form every time his emotions got the best of him? And the fact that the others held a grudge against her for associating with me and my family. This was a disaster.

Clearly she wasn't safe with them, couldn't trust them. It would only be a matter of time before she was injured—I just didn't know if it would be accidental with Bella in the wrong place at the wrong time or intentional as payback for what they viewed as a traitorous act. Or perhaps Bella's suffering would come at the hands of Victoria.

There she was between a rock and a hard place. Forced to decide.

But despite my turmoil about her safety and the risks posed by Victoria and the wolves, I have to admit that I was angry. Angry to learn that she was divulging our secrets to those filthy dogs. I understood why Bella was doing it; I even agreed that it was for the best. But that didn't change the fact that I didn't like it. I didn't want them knowing my business. I didn't want them having insight into my family. It made me feel vulnerable having this information out there and knowing that it could never be undone. It was selfish of me to take the time to worry about this in light of the circumstances, but it couldn't be helped.

I was impressed to learn that the wolves had disposed of Laurent and I was grateful that they had saved Bella. But I also knew that Victoria was a completely different story. They didn't have the element of surprise with her. And she was fueled by revenge and hate and loathing. She was determined. She was clearly toying with them, testing them. Looking for their weaknesses, studying their strategies. It wouldn't be long before she found a way around or, if necessary, through them.

I couldn't have cared less about their safety. But their failure would cost Bella dearly. If the wolves were defeated it would leave Bella vulnerable and Victoria would show no mercy. She would toy with Bella in much the same way she had the wolves, subjecting her to agonizing torture for as long as possible.

I also knew that if the remaining wolves somehow managed to protect Bella, it would kill her to know that others had been injured or killed. She would feel responsible. She would blame herself.

It felt like I was watching a hurricane on a weather map. You can see its strength and size and trajectory. You know that it's going to wreak havoc once it hits land, destroying everything in its path. And you realize with wonder and horror that there is nothing that you can do to stop it. You can try to prepare—board your windows, sandbag, evacuate—but nothing you do will alter what's to come.

I was helpless to prevent this impending disaster. All I could do was continue reading to learn the specific details of this inevitable catastrophe.

* * *

><p>Dear Edward – I almost died again today.<p>

God, how many journal entries should a person have to write that start out that way? I suppose for most people the answer is none. For me, though...

But I have no one to blame but myself. This time the life jeopardizing madness is all my own making. No vampires, no Frankenstein, no ogres involved. Just a really bad decision by a neurotic girl.

And before I go any further, I should stress that I was NOT trying to kill myself. It's a simple case of not thinking things through, not taking the time to weigh the consequences of my decision. I blame my stupid, human, teenage hormones. Maybe they made me feel like I was invincible. Or maybe I've cheated death too many times and, as a result, I'm subconsciously starting to believe that I am actually indestructible.

Whatever the cause, though, I'm definitely not feeling that way any more. Not tonight and not anytime soon.

My chest hurts, my throat is killing me. I feel like I spent the afternoon swallowing swords for some circus sideshow act. My head feels like it weighs a ton. I feel old and worn out. Drowning is a bitch—I wouldn't recommend it. Of course, I suppose you wouldn't have to worry about that with the whole optional breathing thing.

I was supposed to get to spend time with Jake today, just to hang out and be friends and do something fun for a change. I've spent the whole week alone and it hasn't been good for me. Too much crappy TV, too much time wandering alone on the beach. This goes against the program that was working for me—keeping busy and staying engaged. I've actually just spent an entire week completely disengaged. It's not good. And based on the day's events I don't think that anyone would argue with me.

See Jake and I were finally going to go cliff diving. He could see that I was starting to fall apart and he knew that I needed something to look forward to. So we made plans. But of course, Victoria decided to make an appearance and screw everything up. Stupid vampire.

I was trying to keep myself occupied, I really was. I finished all of my homework assignments two days into spring break, I worked my scheduled shifts at Newton's, but every other free moment has been spent in La Push. Victoria has kept the pack busy chasing her around. That means that I've been left to my own devices. Bored, lonely, thoughtful, depressed.

I'm spending another spring break being hunted by a vampire. The déjà vu is overwhelming... how could I possibly avoid thinking about you? It's hard to believe that the whole fiasco with James was a year ago. In some respects it feels like it was just yesterday; in others it feels like a lifetime ago. I can remember every detail of that week and yet it feels so distant and far away. My life is completely different now—you and your family are long gone, erasing the future that I was imagining for myself. And yet things are so much the same—life in danger, others risking their lives to protect me, and here I am making poor choices again.

So clearly, I'm not in the healthiest mental state. When Jake had to take off after Victoria I was throwing myself a little pity party, wallowing in my misfortune. Until suddenly it occurred to me. I needed fun, I needed a distraction. Needed them like I needed air to breathe and food to eat and water to drink. Why should I give that up just because Jake wasn't around to join me? I may not be able to defend myself against Victoria, but I'm a strong independent woman, right? I should be able to jump off a cliff without assistance.

Before I could come to my senses I was off. Off to the top of the cliff. I knew that there was a storm coming in. I may not have spidey senses, but even I could tell that the weather was changing. But instead of dissuading me, that just motivated me to hurry. I can't explain it but I just HAD to jump before the storm hit.

I tried to look for the path that Jake had mentioned that would take me to the lower ledge. But I was so focused on the task at hand that I must have had tunnel vision because I never saw it. I found myself at the very top, where Sam and the others had been that day when Jake and I first took the bikes out. I remembered how crazy I thought they were back then. And to be honest, standing there at the top of the cliff, it seemed even crazier to me now.

But wasn't that the point? Didn't I need a good strong dose of adrenaline and excitement? Didn't I deserve a brief escape from the incessant fear about my safety and the loneliness of hiding out on the reservation?

And even though I didn't admit it to myself, I was desperate to hear your voice again. It felt like it had been ages and the last few times had been so brief. I wanted to spend a little time with you.

Of course you were there—you didn't let me down. Telling me to turn around, not to jump. Asking at first, then chiding, then becoming downright pissed. It was heaven. I was suddenly glad that I was doing this on my own. No interruptions, no need to keep up appearances. Just me and you.

It was the biggest rush of my life, stepping up to the ledge and launching myself off. It was scary and thrilling and freeing, all at the same time. It felt like I was flying as the wind whipped around, embracing me. And for a moment I thought that feeling might last forever. It was absolutely amazing, indescribable.

Until I hit the water.

The impact was jarring, but that wasn't the problem. I was ok at first, started swimming toward the surface. But with the approaching storm the waves were relentless as they crashed against the cliff face and the currents were unforgiving. They were churning me one way then another and I suddenly realized that I didn't know which way was up.

You were there again, telling me to keep trying. And I did, at least at first. But my body was taking a beating and I was quickly running out of air. It wasn't long at all before my arms and legs weren't responding, weren't obeying. Everything felt so heavy and, to be honest, I started to wonder why I was bothering.

Why was I trying so hard?

Why fight to survive these waves, to get to the surface and swim for shore? So that Victoria could hunt me down and kill me? So that the wolves could continue risking their lives to protect me? Wouldn't it just be easier to surrender to the water? Wouldn't this be more peaceful than what Victoria was planning?

And there you were again. Only this time I didn't just hear you, I saw you. You were begging me, pleading with me to keep trying. But I was spent. I didn't have anything left to give. I wanted to enjoy the last few moments of my life and with you by my side it was going to be so easy.

The next thing I knew I was slamming into something solid and I felt like I was being crushed to death. You were gone and I felt so disoriented, I couldn't figure out what was happening. My vision was spotty and I don't think I was fully conscious. Although I do remember breaking the surface and eventually reaching the beach. I remember feeling cold but seeing fire on the water. I remember hearing a voice yelling at me to breathe, but it wasn't you. You were gone... again.

Jake saved my life.

I've felt all along that Jake was saving me, but today he quite literally brought me back to life.

I instantly felt ashamed for being so selfish and conceited. Here these guys are, running around trying to protect me and how do I repay them? By risking everything. Practically throwing it all away. It was stupid and immature.

Jake told me that they had lost track of Victoria when she made for the ocean. He came back this way to check on me since I've been spending so much time on the beach. He was afraid that she'd double back in the water. If he hadn't come along... well it would have been the end for me.

And even though I feel beaten up and broken. Even though I'm worn out and tired of the fight. Even though there was a short time in the water when I surrendered, I'm so grateful that he was there. I want to keep muddling through this crazy life. I have to believe that I'll come out the other side of this, that there is another side. That things will calm down, that maybe I'll get to live some sort of normal life if I can just survive this thing with Victoria.

Jake took me back to his place and we both crashed out. Drowning takes a lot out of you and Jake's been out scouting for Victoria non-stop. I think we both just shut down. It was amazing, but even after the day that I had I slept peacefully with Jake by my side. It was unbelievably restful. Not dreamless, but it was just regular dreams. No nightmares. No forest, no vampires, no abandonment. Quite extraordinary—it almost makes the drowning thing worthwhile.

Unfortunately we both woke to some bad news. Before we left the beach I learned that Harry Clearwater had suffered a heart attack earlier that day. When Billy came home from the hospital we learned that he didn't make it. He was one of Charlie's best friends and it's scary for me to have death hitting so close to home. It's a strong reminder about how fragile life is. How quickly things can change. Even without supernatural forces interfering.

It makes me feel all the worse about the risks that I've been taking. In Port Angeles with Jessica, the motorcycles, and now the cliff diving.

Can you imagine if Charlie had lost me and Harry in the same day? He would have been devastated and I don't think he ever would have been the same.

It's made me realize that it's not right for me to be so blasé about my safety. I need to start acting like an adult and making adult decisions. I need to stop relying on others to save me. It's time to grow up.

I think that I need to give up my adventure-seeking behavior. I need to stop relying on these hallucinations of you to get me through. Because the truth is that it's not you. It's not healthy. And I'm never going to have any kind of life as long as I'm clinging so tightly to your ghost.

I don't know how to do it. And I don't know if it's going to work, but I have to try.

I owe it to Charlie not to kill myself in some crazy accident inspired by my desire to hear your voice. I owe it to Jake and the pack not to kill myself with some silly stunt when they're out there risking their lives to protect me. And even more importantly, I owe it to myself. I deserve a better life than the one that I've been leading.

I have to accept that you don't want me and embrace the fact that this doesn't make me worthless. I honestly don't think that I'll ever love anyone else the way that I love you, but that doesn't mean that I can't love and be loved.

It's time to move on.

Maybe this is a break through? I don't know, I'll have to talk to Bridget about it next time. Speaking of, I had another therapy session this week. It was my reschedule from last week. And I had to tell Jake about it. Since I'm escorted everywhere now there was no way I was going to be able to keep it from him. I wasn't so nervous to tell him though. I figured that if I was able to accept that he turns into a wolf, he should be able to accept the fact that I need therapy, right?

He was super cool about it. So much so that I started wondering why I hesitated to tell him in the first place. Anyway, he made sure that he was the one following me to Port Angeles and promised that he'd try to keep this from the other wolves. From the way he's described the whole mind-reading shared consciousness thing, I don't think it's possible. But I appreciated the sentiment.

The session went ok. I told her about Jake and I having a falling out and working through it, minus the supernatural details of course. I told her that I fessed up to him about therapy and felt really good about it. I like being honest with him. And it's not like he didn't know how messed up I was already. After all of this it seemed stupid to be keeping a secret from him.

I talked about my dreams some. How they've been changing, new variations, some variety on the old themes. Bridget seems to think these are positive signs. I hope she's right.

Maybe in my next session I'll ask if she has any recommendations for how to go about letting you go and moving on. I'm going to need all the help I can get.


	16. Chapter 16

I was at a loss as I read Bella's journal entry. Clearly I knew throughout that she had survived the cliff diving since there was an entry, but as I read it I could feel the fear and anxiety building all the same. It was a miracle that she wasn't killed or seriously injured. I was angry that she could be so immature. Flinging herself off a cliff so that she could spend time with my voice? That was idiotic and insane.

I was relieved that she had escaped relatively unscathed and happy to know that the incident seemed to shake some sense into her. I had been afraid that nothing would derail her from this kamikaze course of action, that it may actually kill her. But it sounded as though she was at last gaining some much needed perspective.

These were the logical responses that I had while reading, not the emotional responses that followed.

After reading the entry my mind quieted and what remained was a tangled web of dark swirling emotion. It was initially gnarled and unrecognizable.

It caught me unaware and I found myself confused as to its origins. My curiosity was piqued and I acted quite out of character. I sat there and actually allowed myself... to feel.

I didn't think.

I didn't try to dissect and analyze.

I sat there and gave myself over to these undefined emotions.

It was liberating. To be still. To set my intellect aside and just be. Just feel. Just experience whatever this was.

The mass of emotion gathered together and swelled like a wave, washing over me. And before I realized that I should panic and retreat back to the safety of my mind, throw up my defenses, I was drenched in despair. Drowning in it. Admittedly, mine was a figurative drowning, but no less frightening or disorienting than Bella's.

I was consumed with a sense of hopelessness and dread. I felt empty and drained. There was a crushing weight pressing down on me. I was slumping over, my shoulders sagging, as though I could not withstand the pressure of this tidal wave.

And though I knew that I didn't need to breathe, in that moment it seemed imperative that I draw deep breaths. Breaths that wouldn't come.

I fell to the floor. My knees and forehead pressing against the cool tile. And as this emotional wave crested I instantly understood. I knew without a doubt the origins of this despair, this hopelessness, this empty feeling, this void...

Bella was going to move on.

She was going to leave me behind.

She was giving up on me, on us.

She believed I had done the same months ago and now she was going to let me go.

Until that moment, I had honestly believed that this was what I wanted. That this had been my plan and design. For her to carry on, live happily and fully.

But those letters on the page, arranged into those words, organized into those sentences, conveying these thoughts in black and white... they crushed me. They rendered me powerless.

This was what Bella had felt when I left. This was what she suffered as I trivialized our relationship and dismissed her from my life.

In that moment I realized that my choice to leave Bella, my decision to lie about the reasons, my cold, calculating delivery of my goodbye speech... these things made me a monster.

I had spent my entire existence as a vampire battling the stereotype, struggling against my nature, determined that I would not allow my circumstances to dictate who and what I was. That I could be kind and compassionate, that I could control myself and conquer my baser instincts.

And I had succeeded for so long.

But the day that I chose to break Bella's heart, knowingly and intentionally, I had become the worst sort of monster. The wolf in sheep's clothing. The deceitful beast that plays the part of prince charming, winning the lady's trust and affections, only to turn them back on her as weapons. Determined that it is not enough to simply hurt her, the beast destroys her.

I was ashamed of what I had become. I was appalled that it had taken me so long to see the truth.

I vowed, then and there, that I would set this right. I couldn't take it back, undo the damage, or reverse my mistake. I could never erase the pain that I had caused Bella or the trauma that she had suffered at my hand.

But somehow, some way, some day, I would redeem myself.

Driven by this conviction I dragged myself up off of the floor, more determined that ever to complete her journal. I was anxious to begin my mission of redemption, but knew that I had to finish this first. And so having taken the deep breath that had eluded me earlier, I sat down and turned to the next entry.

* * *

><p>Dear Edward – My subconscious must hate me. It's the only explanation. It's punishing me for deciding that I have to try to let you go. And the punishment is quite effective. I had honestly believed that no one could ever possibly hurt me more than you did. But as it turns out, I was wrong. I'm far more effective at hurting myself than anyone else could ever be. I'm my own arch nemesis.<p>

The battle between my conscious and subconscious is leaving a path of devastating destruction. It's all so confusing; I'm not even sure which one I'm rooting for anymore.

That night, after the cliff-diving "incident" I had the most vivid dream. The re-runs of your forest desertion ended and a new dreamscape season began. It picked up as I arrived home from Jake's that day. In my dream, Alice was waiting for me at the house.

Jake wasn't too happy about that, but I was walking on air at the prospect of having my best friend back. Even if she was angry with me. But something went wrong and the next thing I knew Alice and I were on our way to Italy. See, Rosalie told you that I was dead because Alice saw me jump off the cliff but never saw Jake pull me out. We quickly figured out that the wolves are voids in Alice's ability. But it was all too late. Rosalie had told you and then you called my house asking for Charlie because you're nothing if not thorough. You had to be sure. Unfortunately, Jake answered the phone and told you (posing as Carlisle) that Charlie was at "the" funeral. Of course it was Harry's, not mine, but the damage was done.

So next thing I know, you're off to Italy to ask the Volturi to take your life and Alice and I begin a mad dash across the ocean to try to reach you in time. The Volturi turn you down because they think your life is too valuable to waste, especially with your mind reading abilities. Of course, their refusal succeeds in royally pissing you off so you begin concocting all sorts of elaborate plans to force their hand. You figured that if you did something to expose yourself they wouldn't have any choice but to take you out.

In the end you settled for walking out into the sunlight of the town square at noon during a huge celebration. There were thousands of people and it all came down to me racing across a huge fountain as the clock began to strike twelve. And, since it was my dream, I reach you just as you were stepping out into the light. At first you thought that the Volturi had acted quickly and that you were already dead, seeing me in the afterlife. But after a few moments I finally convinced you that we were both actually alive.

And then I woke up.

It had seemed so real that I actually expected to find you sitting there in my chair, watching me the way you used to. But the fog began to clear and I found myself back in the here and now.

Every night I dread going back to sleep because I'm once again submersed in this serial dream. A world where you still care enough that you couldn't go on when you thought I was gone, where my clumsy ass actually managed to save you for a change, where I survived unspeakable unpleasantness in the Volturi castle, where Alice promised the Volturi that she would change me since I knew too much and you still stubbornly refused, where you held me the whole way back to Forks.

In my fantasy dream world we quickly fell back into familiar routines. Your whole family returned and it was almost as if there had been no absence. Almost. Except for a few things, like the fact that Charlie wanted to kill me for disappearing for several days and returning home with you in tow. Or Jake turning his back on me. I guess he felt that by getting back together with you, I was betraying him.

He got his revenge though, he totally screwed me over. He told Charlie about the motorcycles in an attempt to get me grounded with the hopes that this would pull you and me apart. Of course, I was already grounded. I thought that Charlie was going to have a stroke or something. It was a big nasty mess. It probably sounds ridiculous, but I was so angry about the dream that I was short with Jake the next time I saw him. I just couldn't help it. I wanted to scream and yell at him for what he had done in my dream.

But despite the darker moments of these dreams, when I'm asleep I don't want to wake up. Then when I'm awake I'm sick at the thought of going back to sleep. Even though I treasure those stolen, imaginary moments with you, I know that it's going to tear out another piece of me when I wake up and have to accept that it isn't real.

The most painful morning came after night two. You were trying to convince me that you weren't ever going to leave me again. That you still loved me and were going to return to me in short order before my cliff jumping led to all the other drama. Of course we ended up on the topic of my mortality and we both remained at opposite sides of the issue. You insisted that I would remain human; I argued that this was no longer an option. The Volturi hadn't given us a deadline, but clearly it was only a matter of time before they came calling to ensure that I was a vampire too. I made you take me to your house so that everyone in your family could have their say. You lost and it was agreed that Carlisle would change me after graduation.

In normal Edward fashion you didn't handle the defeat well, but you were constructive. You devised a plan to manipulate me. You were trying to buy more time, more human time to be exact. You asked me what I wanted more than anything and I played right into your hand. I told you that I would want you to change me. I would want you to be the one to stand up and take action, showing me that you truly wanted me with you forever. We started bargaining in months and years what that was worth to me and in the end you gave up the time angle and proposed to me. Yep, you asked me to be your wife. I freaked out. Both in the dream and in my waking hours.

I've seen first-hand what getting married young can do and I knew that it would look like it was a shot-gun wedding. I could envision the disappointment and disapproval on my mom's face when I imagined telling her that I was getting married at this age. Charlie already wanted to kill you; I knew that this wouldn't help.

But I didn't say no. Knowing me, knowing you, I imagine it's only a matter of time until the dream me agrees... assuming this nightly series continues.

It hurts me to have the dream version of you wanting to make the most lasting commitments possible—marriage and an eternity with you—when the real you wants nothing to do with me. This dichotomy is almost more than I can bear.

If this keeps up I just might go crazy. Really crazy. The kind of crazy where I can no longer function enough to fake my way through the day. The kind of crazy where they lock you up and medicate you.

I have no one to blame but myself. That day after the cliff-diving I was laying there at Jake's thinking about Romeo and Juliet. I was wondering whether Juliet might have been able to be happy with Paris. Maybe she could have had a great life. Maybe, I thought, I could be happy with Jake. Maybe what you and I had wasn't real. Maybe that soul-mate stuff isn't attainable and only happens in novels or movies or songs based on the creator's imagination.

And if that's the case, I thought, then shouldn't I get over it and get on with my life? I was serious when I said that I was going to try to let you go. But these damn dreams...

I don't know which end is up anymore. Am I supposed to pine over you forever? Is my subconscious trying to tell me that I shouldn't give up? Or is this just a new way that I'm trying to hold on to you since I've sworn off risking my life to hear your voice?

What does this mean? Does it mean anything? I just don't know.

Thank God spring break is over, though. I'm probably the only teenager alive that was thrilled to get back to school. It hasn't solved my Victoria problem, but I definitely needed to get back to a normal schedule. I need structure in my day and something to do with my time.

I'm so grateful for everything that the wolves are doing to keep me safe, but I couldn't spend another minute alone on the reservation.

So during the day I've been working harder than usual to act like a normal person. I've been going to school and doing homework and talking to people. I actually think that I've been a little over-social. I've been talking to people in my classes, at lunch, before and after school. And not just my friends—I'm talking to people that I've never spoken to before. The reactions have been varied. Some folks have just accepted it; some are acting like they're scared of me or what I'm going to do next. I guess I can't blame them.

I've never been very outgoing and I've been a little overzealous about connecting with people this week. But I can't help myself. I was starved for conversation and company. I can't seem to figure out how I spent so much time withdrawn and detached during the first few months after you left. How did I survive that when I nearly crumbled after just one week of spring break?

I think that had a lot to do with my poor choices with the cliff diving. I'm not making excuses. It was a stupid thing to do no matter what and I accept responsibility for that choice, but I feel a little better now that I understand that the isolation contributed.

Clearly, I can't let that happen again. The evidence would suggest that unstructured time isn't healthy for me. So I'm being proactive about it and doing what I can to prevent those circumstances. I might ask the Newton's if they'd consider giving me some additional hours. If not, maybe I'll pick up another part time job. And I started thinking that maybe I could do some volunteer work. It would be good for me to spend some time helping others. It will keep me busy and help me to keep some perspective too. I'm not sure what kind of volunteer opportunities are available around here, but there's got to be something, right?

And I've decided that as soon as there's some resolution to the Victoria problem I'm going to go visit my mom. I've been terrible about keeping in touch with her and I haven't seen her since she tried to take me back to Florida with her. I feel awful when I think about what these past few months must have been like for her. She isn't the stereotypical mom, but she loves me and I'm sure that my rejection and then chronic apathy have hurt her. I need to do what I can to repair that.

The Charlie situation is going to be a little more complicated. He's having such a hard time with Harry's death. I want to be here for him and help him, but I feel helpless. I can't bring his friend back. And of course Charlie doesn't want to talk about it or cry it out. He's been so patient with me over these past few months, so supportive; I just want to do the same for him. I've been cooking some of his favorite meals and trying to talk to him about sports, but that doesn't amount to much. But hopefully those gestures are enough to let him know that I care, that I'm here.

You know, maybe these journal entries are a bad idea. Maybe this is part of the problem. That I'm sitting here in my bedroom pretending that I'm writing this to you. Pondering what your responses would be. Maybe I need to give this up too? But I can't. I'm just not strong enough to go cold turkey. Does that make me weak and pathetic? I guess it does. You broke up with me months ago and at first I was devastated and in denial. I was convinced that you were going to come back. Then I went crazy, trying to find ways to put myself in danger so that I could hear your voice. I almost killed myself in the process and finally when I think that I've come to my senses... these dreams kick in.

Well, for better or worse, I can barely keep my eyes open. There's no avoiding it... I'm going to have to get some sleep. I can only hope that these dreams have an end and that I'll reach it soon. Wish me luck.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I'm Baaaaaaaack. My apologies for the extended hiatus. There are a number of reasons for it, but I won't bore you with the details. I hope that those of you who have enjoyed the story thus far will forgive me and I hope you enjoy.**

She wasn't letting go.

She was still dreaming of me.

Perhaps it makes me the most selfish of creatures, but I was overjoyed to know that I was still in her thoughts, still in her heart.

I could all too clearly imagine the scenes that she described from her dreams. Of course she would want to be turned upon my return. It was what she said she wanted all along. With the added threat from the Volturi there would be no stopping her. And my family would be all for it... well most of them anyway.

Hadn't they all accepted her as part of the family already? It would have eliminated Jasper's struggles. Alice would have her best friend for all eternity. Carlisle and Esme reveled in the joy that Bella brought to my life, so they would have agreed to Bella's transformation without hesitation. And Emmett, loving Bella in his own way, would have been giddy at the idea of being able to tease and torment her for all time.

So only Rosalie and I would have objected. But for such different reasons.

It irked me to even consider the possibility of taking Bella's life. Robbing her of her soul. Damning her, if my fears were right.

But when I considered the idea of marrying Bella, taking her as my wife... Committing to one another in matrimony and knowing that she would be mine for all time... I couldn't imagine anything sweeter.

I closed my eyes and tried to picture it. I quickly discovered that I could see it all so clearly. My proposal, our negotiations, my mother's ring on Bella's finger, her blush and embarrassment, my triumph when she finally acquiesced.

I caught myself grinning like an idiot. I was so caught up in the daydream that for a minute, I too could believe that it was real.

But it's not.

Alice didn't go back. Bella never saved me from the Volturi. My pigheadedness kept me away and the demands I made of my family ensured that there would be no further opportunity for us to interfere in her life. I wanted to protect her from us, from our world. I wished that she would live a full and happy life, but I couldn't bear to witness it. I insisted that I be kept in the dark.

And as a result, none of Bella's dreams had come to pass.

Maybe it could have happened exactly as she described from her dreams. Granted, I would never want her to encounter the Volturi, but maybe we could have reunited. Maybe things could have gone back to the way they were. Maybe we could have had a happily ever after. Maybe...

Maybe we still could?

* * *

><p>Dear Edward – I don't like you very much right now.<p>

There are a few reasons for that and, I'll be the first to admit, some of them aren't all that rational.

See, I blame you for these dreams. They haven't stopped. I've been thinking about it and maybe if you hadn't left me the way you did I wouldn't be struggling with this so much. I realize that when one person wants to end a relationship and the other person doesn't there's no easy way to do it. There's no way to break things off without hurting the other person. I get that, I really do. But after everything that we'd been through, I think that I deserved more than I got.

I think that I deserved more than a brush off conversation. I think that I deserved the chance to process what you were saying and respond before you disappeared. But you dumped me and ran away, quite literally. There was no closure for me. And fine, maybe you didn't love me or care about me anymore, but couldn't you have been decent about it? Couldn't you have given me a little more warning? A little more time? Especially since your time is unlimited?

I'm not saying that I wanted you to stay with me—I don't want to be with someone who doesn't love me. And if we weren't going to be together, I think that it's best that you left Forks. I couldn't have withstood seeing you every day, being subjected to your indifference when I don't feel the same. But after talking to Bridget this week I think that maybe I've coped so poorly because I didn't get a chance to say any of these things to you. I didn't get a chance to ask questions, to try to understand what happened. So now I'm left with all of this uncertainty.

Bridget suggested that these new dreams are a good sign. That I'm moving past the fact that you left, working through some of the unresolved issues that I have. She thinks that they'll probably come to an end once I work through it and come to terms with all of this. God, I hope she's right and I hope it's soon.

One of the other reasons that I don't like you very much right now is the content of the dreams.

I don't like the dream version of us, as a couple, very much. It's not a healthy relationship. Sure, it's just a dream, but it really irks me that even my imaginary version of us has to be so messed up. I can create anything that I want with my subconscious, but instead of conjuring up a little bliss and perfection, I go for angst and drama. What the hell is that about?

Is that because I'm a teenage girl?

Is that how I see our past now that I've put some distance between then and now?

Or am I just torturing myself?

I don't know the reasons, but you've been downright barbaric. You forbid me from seeing Jake. Forbid! Even Charlie wouldn't forbid me to do something, as if I'm some petulant child. But _you_ did.

You forbid me from seeing the one person who was there for me when my world fell apart. The one person who understood how messed up I was and stood by me anyway. The one person who helped me glue enough of the broken pieces back together that I could have some semblance of a normal life.

You decided that Jake was too dangerous, that I was in danger just by being around him. Jake and the pack were the ones who stepped in and protected me in your absence. They saved my life with Laurent and kept me out of Victoria's clutches, but you swoop back in and forbid me from spending time with them? And when I didn't just accept your word as law, you did whatever was necessary to stop me at every turn.

Since dream-Jake was mad at me and wouldn't take my calls I decided to drive down to the reservation one night. You solved that problem by disconnecting something in my truck. But I didn't give up.

Once while you were away hunting I made a run for the border and I made it. See it was a last minute decision so even in my pokey old truck I still managed to get to La Push before Alice could intervene. Of course you overreacted. You came rushing back from your hunting trip and went off on me about how you nearly broke the treaty to come find me and ensure that I was safe.

You chose to solve this problem by paying Alice off (with a Porsche!) to kidnap me and hold me hostage the next time that you went hunting. She called it a slumber party but it was definitely a prison sentence. But Jake helped me outsmart you guys again. He showed up at school on his bike and whisked me away. There wasn't much that Alice could do to stop me in front of all those witnesses.

I hate that in my dreams you and Jake are at each other's throats. Always focusing on the mortal enemy bullshit. Totally ignoring the fact that you place me in the middle. You both completely disregard me and become consumed in the macho posturing.

But that's not the worst of it. In my dreams you've been lying to me too. And I'm not talking about little white lies about an outfit or my hair. I'm talking big lies. Lies about Victoria. In my dream, Alice had a vision and I knew that something was going on. But I was so happy to be with you again that I chose not to make waves and I didn't push for the truth. I let myself be distracted. You convinced me that we should use the plane tickets that Carlisle and Esme had given me on my last birthday to go see my mom. You gave me some line about how I had been talking about her in my sleep. And I bought it. But all the while you were just trying to get me out of Forks so that I'd be safe.

Why couldn't you be honest with me? Why couldn't you tell me that Victoria was coming back and it would be a good weekend to go away? Instead of trusting me and confiding in me you manipulated me into doing what you thought was best.

Turned out that there was a big confrontation between your family and the wolves that weekend. You kept that from me too. I had to hear about it from Jake.

It's got me thinking... is this how things were when we were together? I didn't see it that way at the time, but with a little time and distance, I think the answer is yes. You were always telling me partial truths, weren't you? You never confided in me. Sure you probably thought of it as protecting me. But I see it differently now. You didn't respect me enough to be straight with me. You never considered that maybe I'm not too stupid or young or naive to be able to handle things.

I don't think those thoughts ever crossed your mind. You treated me like a child. Yes, I know that I'm younger than you. And okay, it's by a lot. But loving someone isn't just about protecting them. It's about sharing. It's about a give and take. Looking back it feels like I had a body guard, not a boyfriend.

So, ok, those are two of the reasons that I don't like you very much right now. And fine, maybe they're a bit bogus. I can admit that it's ridiculous to blame someone else for your dreams. But the third one is all on you. The real you, not the dream you. See, the dreams have been feeling incredibly real to me. I don't know that I'm dreaming and I buy into the whole thing while I'm asleep. Then each morning I have to go through the process of accepting that it isn't real and readjusting to this life without you. It's exhausting bouncing back and forth between these two worlds—one where you loved me enough to come back and the real world where you didn't.

So I started thinking. Maybe the dreams feel so real because that's how it was supposed to happen. Maybe Alice was supposed to see me jump and then all of the rest would have played out exactly as it has in my dreams.

I know how ridiculous it sounds, but I started looking for ways to prove that the dreams were supposed to be true. That my dream-world was the one I was supposed to be living in. But how in the world do you prove that a dream is supposed to be real?

And then it hit me... and this brings me to the real reason that I don't like you very much right now.

I found my stuff. The stuff that you hid from me when you did your clean sweep to make it seem like you never existed.

I found it all under my floorboard, just like in my dream. At first I felt vindicated, like this was proof that my dream represents the way things are supposed to be. Then I started looking (ok staring) at the photos and playing the CD. And it ripped me up. Like tearing open a scab that's just started to heal. I wallowed for awhile and now I just have more questions than before.

Why did you take this stuff from me only to hide it under my floorboard? Was I supposed to find it? Actually, I think it's a miracle that I did. Without the dream I never would have searched my room. Did you want me to have these things? If not, then why not take them with you. Drop them in the trash, burn them, whatever. Why leave them behind? Was it because you couldn't be bothered to have to dispose of them on your way out of town? Couldn't you have just dumped them in the woods or the river?

Does it mean anything that part of the dream is real?

I can't shake the feeling that the dream is the life I'm supposed to be living. But I think maybe we got off track. You're supposed to be part of my life—I can feel that. I must have done something wrong. I just can't figure out what it was or how to fix it.


End file.
